The Lost House
by SurefireReadingFF
Summary: The Black Garden is dead. Two Guardians, battered and bruised, walked in and stopped the heart once and for all. However, an ancient evil thought to be long dead stirs again, this time posing a direct threat to the City and the Traveler itself. Time is of the essence. Precision is key. Don't believe everything you see.
1. Introduction

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 **VGRD3-IKRY**

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 **Retinal scan initiated**

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 **Welcome back Rey, Ikora. What would you like to do today?**

 **Open Log Book**

 **Log Opened**

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 **Creating New Log**

 **Recording in 3…..**

 **2…..**

 **1…..**

" **Today marked a brand new day in our efforts to defeat the Darkness. The Heart within the Black Garden has finally been vanquished due to the efforts of Maximus and Arla Nublier. We readily await their arrival, so we can congrulate them and debrief them in full.**

" **When they first went in there...when we first lost contact with them, I was nervous. I won't lie. I had complete confidence in their ability. This was an extremely dangerous undertaking and getting the Awoken involved was slightly risky, however now that we have limited contact with the Queen, or at least her associates, we're working out some sort of deal to reopen military connections for ourselves and trade rights for those in the City."**

Ikora sighed and turned back to the camera on her desk. Her face getting stern, and her eyes becoming steely and focused. **"Alright, time to get down to business. We can pat ourselves on the back all we want, but there's still a fight to be won. As I speak, there are Guardians risking bodily harm for everyone else's sakes. Some of them I know will never return. I sometimes think of the bravery many Guardians show, how much of me before my days as part of the Vanguard I see in them, and how they continue to fight against this powerful enemy...this infinite Darkness and still come back, ready to be dispatched on yet another mission. In truth, it's been too long since I left this Tower on a mission of my own, but if I do, I fear the Darkness will have something especially evil for me, something that I would not likely survive. That is why the Invective remains on its shelf, gathering dust. That is why I respect each and every one of these Guardians who go out weekly, some even daily, to fight off this encroaching enemy. These Guardians make victories like today possible**

" **Now that this part of the fight is over, I find myself thinking about what is going through Maximus and Arla's minds. The fight they just fought was one we, the Vanguard, were saving for a full team of six, a raiding party similar to the one we plan to send to Venus' Vault of Glass sometime in the near future, where something almost as dark as the Heart lurks, but that's a conversation for another time. I can only imagine what kind of horrors they saw in the Garden, what they found in themselves and in the Darkness. I have no doubt that they experienced something not even the worst of nightmares could bring. I fairly certain that at least Arla will take a few weeks off, heaven knows what she's gone through the last few weeks, and Maximus may do the same, but they are more important than they know at the moment. In fact, they may never know, but there's something about them, a sort of aura, that separates them from many of the other Guardians, something that came about not too long ago. I theorize that this was something Maximus may have brought on. He may be part of a new breed of Guardian, the likes of which we've never seen before. He's still mortal like the rest of us, but I sense a deeper connection to the Traveler in him and now Arla as well.**

" **But that wasn't why I came to record this log. There's something stirring the Light once again. Today may be a day for pretty speeches and medals, but there's something sinister and more threatening than things like the Vex felt. It almost feels like whatever this disturbance is may be among us at the moment. I have a good feeling about this, but I pray that it is wrong. And frankly, I don't know how they would have stayed a secret for this long. More importantly, I don't know how they would have restrained the itch to kill for this long."** A thought hit Ikora **. "Unless they never left. I have to see the Speaker."**

 **Log Terminated.**


	2. Gravity

**Destiny: The Lost House**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Gravity**

 **Lieutenant Charli Hendricks**

The lights suddenly flashed on, awaking anyone asleep and blinding those who were not . Alarms activated, their shrill sirens deafening anyone throughout the ship. Charli Hendricks, lying on her uncomfortable and worn bunk, somehow remained asleep despite the noise. Still within her own dreamland that was far away from the nightmares of her tour of duty, she continued sleeping soundly if not even deeper than before. Shouts to wake and suit up called out over the intercoms and replaced the sirens for only a few split seconds before resuming the shrill noises.

Charli stirred but only because her dream shifted to something a little more unpleasant, dark green shapes with two separate but indistinct facing skulking about the darkness, one side human and the other Fallen. Each one of these phantoms spoke in shrieked syllables that Charli could not begin to understand, but they stayed away from her, deciding only to watch her and speak their unintelligible tongue.

Unexpectedly, she felt as though she were falling, slamming into cold and hard tiles only moments later. Charli opened her eyes and saw a pair of heavy boots standing only inches from her face. Her ribs and head hurt from the fall from her bed. Strong arms hauled her to her feet as she struggled to open her groggy eyes. The strong hands took hold of her shoulders and shook her harshly, wiping away any sleep that remained. "Charli let's go!" her squadmate Chad Roundtree yelled as he shook her.

"I'm up, I'm up," she replied with an upheld hand. Men and women of varying humanity, ethnicity, size, and state of dress rushed from the beds that sat on the outline of the room to their respective locker in the center, grabbing any and all things they could need for whatever was happening. Charli listened to the siren as she dashed to her locker and threw it open. Two long shrieks followed by two much shorter ones, the boarding alarm. As if on cue, a husky male voice, slightly panicked, yelled over the intercom, "Attention all hands, attention all hands! We have been boarded! Grab your gear and proceed to the nearest armory. I repeat, we have been boarded!"

Without any hesitation, Charli changed into her flight suit, a form-fitting yet comfortable article capable of providing protection during assaults and maneuverability in the cockpit, and activated the nano armor that quickly rose from the surface of the suit, coating her arms, legs, and torso in a suit of thin but durable armor. Disregarding her hair, she quickly slipped the flight helmet on and activated its HUD. She grabbed her pistol and slipped the ammunition cartridges into the magnetic holds in the gaps in the utility belt she had clipped about her waist. In it were two frag grenades, a flashbang, and a portable ion cutter. Prepared, Charli turned to her right and saw Brent Simmons, her other squadmate, placing his helmet on his dark-skinned and bearded head, hitting it a couple times to ensure that it was securely fastened. "Ready?" he asked in his husky voice. Charli simply nodded and joined her brothers-in-arms in the crowd rushing helter skelter to find a defensible position close enough to the fray.

She followed them through the blinding white hallways and through a door on her right. Inside, the armory was basically stripped clean of any weapons and ammunition. Brent let out a choice word. "We're gonna have to get to the one in Sector 8." Sector 8, the flight deck, wasn't all that far, but who knows how long it would take in the wake of this sudden attack. After all, she didn't know where their attackers had breached and where they had spread. She could only assume the worst as the bridge had no doubt scrambled every possible unit that was not in the medical bay. They had to get weapons and fast.

Brent charged out of the room with both Charli and Chad in tow, their pistols drawn and safeties off. The closer they drew to the flight deck, the more and more sparsely populated the hallways grew, so much so that they quickly became the only ones in the hallway. The group turned a final corner and found themselves blocked in by a sealed off door. Abandoned crates decorating the path up the door.

"I'll try to get it open!" Chad called out, holstering his pistol and beginning to fiddle with the manual override.

Suddenly, the ship shook violently beneath their feet, knocking each of the to the ground and causing Charli's pistol to fly out of her hand and skitter away. The lights flickered, and the intercom and alarms shut off. The ship still shaking, Charli somehow got to her feet and slowly shuffled forward with a hand against the wall to keep her on her feet. Her pistol was just about at her feet now, and she quickly snatched it up in her hands, resisting the increasing urge to succumb to the shaking. Chad yelled through the comms, "The door's been disabled by the bridge! I'm gonna try and cut our way in."

Out of nowhere, an explosion rocked the hallway in front of her, shrieks of metal-on-metal scrapes echoing unpleasantly down the hallway. She could hear several more impacts all around her with shouts coming up from floors above her. Four Fallen Dregs and two Vandals dressed in pitch black armor clamored out of the pod and immediately noticed Charli trying to run around the corner for cover. The Vandals shouted and pointed in their unintelligible language as plasma bolts suddenly streaked past Charli as she took cover around the corner. "We've got company!" She shouted. "Six Fallen around the corner!" The shaking subsided to a noticeable vibration as she backtracked.

Chad was at the door, using his ion cutter to slice cut a human-sized hole in the door; he looked to be about halfway done. "Little busy!" he called back. Brett took cover behind some crates and readied himself whilst Charli retreated by a similar stack of crates a few feet from Brett's. "Cover me while I try to get this door opened!"

The Fallen ran up the hall to follow Charli, ultimately coming up to the turn she took. Two Dregs and a Vandal continued down the hall while the remaining half took up cover on the wall and behind other stacks of crates to take out her squad. Seconds later, the plasma started flying in all directions, forcing Chad to abandon his efforts on opening the door just short of finishing.

She leaned her head out to get off a shot, but nearly got it ripped off by the Vandal's Line Rifle. Several shots rang out behind her, clear indications that the other two had found at least a few milliseconds to take some errant shots at the encroaching Fallen. Charli leaned out again and landed a couple of shots in a Dreg's torso, wounding him severely and taking him out of action as he bled out on the floor. "Nice shot!" Chad called out from behind her. Charli reloaded and nearly got her head ripped off by the Vandal again. "Cover me!" she called out to the others.

After each confirmed the request, Charli steeled her nerves and moved up to the next crate, weaving between plasma bolts as she ducked behind a singular crate closer to the Fallen at the end of the hall. From there, she could see the remaining Dreg just as one of the others pumped a few bullets into his torso and head.

Chad and Brett immediately took the opportunity to move up a few crates and get clearer shots at the Vandal. Using constant pistol fire to suppress the Vandal, Charli moved from cover and rushed the Vandal. Just as she moved, she spotted something blue in the Vandal's hand. It threw whatever it was at her head but missed as if it wasn't even trying. For only a moment, she turned her head and watched its trajectory, planting itself in the middle of the floor between Chad and Brett.

"Grenade!" one of them managed to call out just as it exploded, killing both of them instantly as Charli could only watch in abject horror. Their bodies tossed like ragdolls against the sectioned metal of the walls. Suddenly, Charli's vision flashed black as she too was knocked into a wall, the Vandal slowly advancing on her helpless form. Rage and sadness swirled in her head as tears streamed down her eyes.

Charli, disoriented and enraged, tried to scramble back to her pistol on her hands and knees, reaching out with her hand in one last desperate attempt to save her own skin as the Vandal slowly advanced toward her. Her grip fumbled the pistol for a moment as she could almost feel the Fallen's heavy weight disabling her ability to move and function properly. Then the foot actually came, pinning her to the ground as she stretched to grab the pistol. Human shouts echoed distantly down the halls as Charli struggled to grab the pistol while the Vandal was distracted. After a pair of failed attempts, she finally got a decent grip on the gun. She suddenly twisted, forcing more of the crushing weight on her ribs, and let loose a single bullet through the Vandal's head as it slid down on top of her, its dead weight now pinning her to the ground even more.

Charli was considerably strong, but she could not budge the dead weight on top of her. Heavy footfalls came from both sides now, and shouts, both friendly and not very, echoed down the hallways that flanked her. The Fallen turned the corner first and immediately began peppering the ground all around her. Friendlies turned the corner and immediately returned fire at the Fallen mysteriously shooting at a "dead" body. From beneath the Vandal, Charli watched them exchange fire for several seconds before one of her allies pulled the pin on a grenade and started to throw it. Before he could finish the motion though, a Vandal scored a perfect headshot, causing the grenade to go nowhere close to its intended targets and landing only a few feet from Charli.

Pushed only by the will to survive, Charli gave the Vandal one last heave and successfully tossed it on top of the grenade, scrambling to her feet and sprinting towards the partially-cut door just as it exploded. The explosion rocked the corridor and pierced the air. The shock wave sent Charli careening into the door and painfully busting it open.

Ignoring the pain pulsating throughout her body, Charli got back onto her unsteady feet and found herself in the hangar. In short, it was in shambles. Fires and destroyed ship parts scattered across the floor as frequently as the dead bodies. Smoke threatened to suffocate her as she stood unable to move for several precious seconds. She looked around for any ship that looked to be somewhat space worthy. All she had to do was fly it to the adjacent ship and flee with them to safety.

Charli ran across the dead hangar, praying for any sort of ship. She then spotted a gray fighter with the hatch open. Blast marks covered the sides, and the pilot was slumped over dead, but it would certainly do. She quickly climbed the ladder and tossed the pilot out of the seat, pushing several buttons and flipping a few switches to activate the fighter and close the thick glass hatch. She fastened the belts and felt it start shuttling over to the launch pad. The comms were jammed or knocked out according to the ship, but they would probably be muted by an all call to abandon ship.

It stopped in front of a large metal bulkhead. A message suddenly flashed up in red: **"The launch bay you are attempting to use has been obstructed or disabled."** Charli threw her head back against the seat. She needed to get out of here, and this launch bay was the only feasible way to get off unless she wanted to fight through more Fallen without a weapon. "Think Char, think," she said quietly to herself. A risky idea popped into her head.

Using the manual controls that overrode any automatic input, Charli backed up the fighter and prepped two of the scatter missile onboard. If she backed up and unleashed those, they would blow open the bulkhead and the self-destruction of the fragments would away any debris in her way. At a safe distance, she fingered the launch button, hesitating to fire because of how back it could bite her in the butt. "Death or death," she whispered to herself. She squeezed the trigger and sent two missiles screeching towards the thick bulkhead. The explosions worked as expected, but something was wrong. Gases were violently blowing by her escape craft and trying to push it down the track prematurely. 'The airlock!' she realized. 'I didn't seal the airlock!' All the air that had been in the hangar was now rushing out by the hole into space she created, fruitlessly trying to create an equilibrium with the endless vacuum of space. Undeterred by the new tailwind, Charli primed the engines and released the locks on the fighter, shooting her forward at incredible speed into space.

Powerful laser and plasma cannons exchanged fire in the emptiness of space as a Fallen battleship pummeled what remained of her ship and started focusing fire on her target. Once out, she pushed down on the stick, pointing the nose at Mars and then turning it back towards her one hope of survival.

Suddenly, streaks of plasma streamed past her fighter, causing her to take evasive maneuvers as a Fallen starfighter tried to shoot her down. Acting out of pure adrenaline and instinct, Charli pulled up on the stick and rolled back to level, placing her above and going the opposite way of her attacker. Not wasting the opportunity, Charli increased the engine's' thrust and charged back toward her assailant, unleashing a barrage of her own laser fire and destroying the craft quickly. Something rocked the fighter violently not a moment afterwards. The controls froze up as Charli fought to regain control of her ship. It was only then that an explosion blinded her, the explosion originating from her ship as the anti-matter fields destabilized and detonated. Debris and shockwaves from the onslaught of energy bursting from the ship ripped apart the adjacent ship and any in the immediate area.

Thankfully, Charli was far enough away that the shockwave wouldn't tear her apart, but she didn't see the large piece of metal slam into her ship from behind, tossing her head sharply forward into the glass hatch and turning everything black as she plummeted towards Mars.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sirens blared as Charli slowly regained consciousness. Mars was slowly growing before her very eyes as it spun wildly. She immediately seized the controls, trying to assess her situation, but nothing would work no matter what she tried. The computer was damaged and frozen on a diagram of her small fighter, shaped very similarly to an F-45 assault fighter from the 2120s, showed that her right wing was missing, and the left was severely damaged. Charli quickly realized the futility of anything she tried to do. Mars' gravity had already gotten ahold of her ship, and without functional engines, there was absolutely nothing she could do.

Charli channeled her growing anger into destroying the speaker squealing that horrid alarm. It took several punches, but eventually it finally stopped making that dreadful noise. She fought back tears as she tried to flip a few more switches, trying to find some miraculous way out of her situation. Friction quickly heated up the nose of her fighter, coating the front in angry reds and yellows as the temperature rose. Tears mixed with sweat as Charli accepted the outcome.

She just waited for the sudden impact of the sand…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Charli inhaled sharply, sucking in as much air as possible and continuing to take in breath after breath after that. Her heartbeat thumped fast and loud; she almost thought that anyone could hear it. 'I'm alive?!' was her first thought. Followed by, 'Now where the heck am I…' Charli tried to move a little, but immediately was stopped by something hard and metal, the clang echoing slighlty in her confined space. She moved her hands about the immediate area, making sure she was in one piece as well as determining what she was contained in.

Whatever she was in, it was made of metal, that much she was sure of, but anything beyond that she knew not. She tried to push up against the walls and looked for any sign of a budge, but instead of a give, multiple joints in her body popped loudly. It was then that she noticed a distinct lack of pain anywhere. In fact, she felt cured, as if all of the wear and tear combat put on her body had never been present at all. It was relieving, freeing even now that she didn't have to deal with the back pain she always felt even after short stints in starfighters.

Done reveling in her miraculous healing, she once again found the edges and soon discovered that if she scooted into the metal seat a little, she could sit up. 'Wait a minute,' she thought upon discovering this. 'This chair wasn't made of metal…' Something wasn't right here. Using her elbow, she bashed the right side of her fighter, feeling the once durable alloy basically disintegrate with each hit. Upon the metal's disappearance, a gritty something started to flow into the cockpit.

Sand. Crap. Charli started bashing away more parts of the ship and scooping handfuls of the gathering sand to the side as she tried to dig her way out of the underground. She continued to dig, but more sand kept replacing it. Somewhere above her, she heard heavy footsteps and muffled voices. "Help!" she called out, continuing to dig through the encroaching sand. The footfalls stopped and the voices hushed only for a moment. Two heavy thuds from above sent more sand into her dark bubble of air. Two more thuds flooded more sand into her, negating much of Charli's progress. "Cut it out!" she yelled, desperately hoping that whatever was above her could hear her and help dig her out.

Charli pulled one leg and arm out of the sand that had collapsed on top of it and fell back into the "chair." She felt around her waist for the utility belt and ion cutter that should have been there, but there was no belt to be found. She found several raised sections that had snapping flaps, but they were definitely not from the belt. What Charli really needed was a light or at least something to shed some light on her situation. Charli chuckled softly at her mental pun.

There should have been one on the right side of her helmet. Using her hand, she felt around the right side of it, but couldn't find the button that activated her helmet light. Maybe she forgot which side it was on. She then used her other hand and checked the left side for any sign of a button. Searching in the dark for a few seconds, her fingers touched something that pushed down slightly whenever they passed by it. Charli pressed the button and a dim circle of light pooled wherever she turned. "Ok," she said to herself. "Now I've got light. Just need to find a way out of here." The sound of her own voice almost scared her. It was hoarse at first, but as her sentence went on, her voice seemed to go back to its authoritative yet silky self.

She felt around her tomb. This was definitely the ship she "escaped" in, but now it was rusted in pretty much every place imaginable. The side she'd been digging on was distinctly lacking large pieces of metal that would have been there under normal circumstances. But instead, rusted and jagged edges cut through the opening with most of the it actually being plugged up by red sand. 'Mars?' she questioned in her mind. 'Am I on Mars?'

Finding that answer was not her most pressing matter, and she ultimately pushed the thought out of her mind. She looked around at the rusted confines of her ship and noticed that her armor was now white instead of the blue she was accustomed to. Questions raced through her mind as to what happened. It was made of defined plates like the armor of the flight suit, but after rubbing what she originally thought was ash, she discovered that this armor was actually white and rather smooth at that. She moved each of her limbs. It was definitely lighter than any usable armor she'd used in the past, but after tapping on a plate on each of her arms, it felt stronger than anything she'd used previously. Did her flight suit calcify during the crash? It would explain the durable nature and white color, but it would also be rough and uneven.

Once again, she pushed any theories out of her mind. Charli just wanted out of the ship. She momentarily pondered taking out the other side of the cockpit, but with all the sand on top of her, it would just push the ceiling down and crush her quicker than she could say "Oops." Then again, the ship's frame looked like it would collapse any second; it was a good thing that the ship and the remains of the chair landed upside down and stayed mostly intact.

Now guided by a small light, Charli restarted her digging efforts and started making progress much faster than before. The voices above her continued (possibly they heard something), but she didn't think they were digging or really even trying to find what made a noise that they may or may not have heard. After what felt like hours of struggling with the sands, the voices drifted off without Charli even noticing. She was too focused on getting out of the sand that continued to shift back towards where she was digging, covering her light or her face every now and again. Her arms burned from the effort and sweat dripped onto the front part of her helmet, but she knew that if she took a rest now, the sand would only come back and trap her again. The longer she dug and the more her muscles burned, the looser and less packed in the sand got. Each handful grew easier to push away but also easier to collapse. Despite the pending danger of this, the thoughts of finally getting out exhilarated her. Charli pushed even harder, trying to move fast despite the battle of attrition that was quickly wearing her down.

Finally, she felt her hand shoot through the surface of the sand. She planted her knees in the sand where she was at and focused her efforts on digging a hole big enough to pull herself out. Some sort of pale light pushed through the growing hole as Charli knocked away more sand on her way up. Eventually, her other hand busted a much larger hole, and Charli hauled herself up and out of the sand.

This was definitely Mars. Phobos cast pale light on the otherwise dark sand that surrounded her as she pulled her legs from the hole. Red dunes surrounded the one she had just pulled herself out of with no sign of life in any direction.

Her suit was starting to get stuffy from all the body heat she expelled and heavy breathing that was quickly steadying. She could hear her quick heartbeat thumping inside her head. Charli knew that at least a couple hours had passed as she struggled to dig herself out, and now her arms felt like jelly and her body as though she had just run a marathon. She placed her hands on the sides of her helmet, but stopped just short of pulling it off. If she did, then she would either freeze in Mars' freezing temperatures or suffocate in its carbon dioxide throat was parched, but she had absolutely no provisions on her at all. There had to be some sort of settlement or colony around here somewhere. If only she had a map…Despite the growing pressures, Charli tossed them out of her mind and tried to stand up. She needed to get to the top of the dune and see if there was anything in the distance.

The main difference between moving in the hole and moving on top of the sand was that she was basically crawling up the hole and not walking, meaning that she had her arms' assistance. When she tried to stand up unabated, her legs immediately collapsed under the sudden weight, causing her to roll helplessly down the dune. "Crap!" she shouted as she started tumbling. She couldn't see where she was rolling as any glimpse into the world was quickly smothered by the red sand. Suddenly she was flying uncontrollably and awkwardly through the air, slamming the back of her head on a large rock at the base of the next dune and losing consciousness on impact.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Charli's head hurt. Almost like she'd taken a bag of bricks and smacked herself with them a few times, that's how much it hurt, thumping every few seconds as she felt something gently nudge her shoulder.

"You think she's alive?" a rough robotic voice asked distantly.

"Her vitals are fine," another voice reassured. Charli didn't recognize either of these voices and didn't know if they were hostile or not. The last thing she wanted to do is wake up to the barrel of a rifle and be led at gunpoint.

"What about other parts of her anatomy? People are more than just brains and organs."

A blue flash of light permeated her closed eyelids. "Looks like she whacked her head pretty hard and is suffering from some slight dehydration and hunger, but otherwise, she's fine. Just asleep."

"Should we wake her up? The Cabal are going to be here any second, and I doubt they're going to take us prisoner a second time."

"That's why you have a gun. Y'know, to shoot at them."

"I get that. Look, I'm waking her up. None of us are safe out here until we get back to the ship. Need I remind you that this isn't a transmat zone." Charli heard cloth bend and rub against other cloth followed by a hand shaking her shoulder. "Miss. Miss, you need to wake up," the voice said gently. "We're not safe out here."

Charli opened her eyes and saw a heavy black boot. She followed the shape of the leg and spotted a white pistol holstered at this person's thigh. It was risky, but she thought she could snag it away and use it as leverage to get some answers. Charli pushed herself to her knees and started to get up. "Very good," the robotic voice said. "Take it easy. You look like you took quite a hit…" Charli quickly found the stranger's head and sent an elbow right into his cranium. Grabbing the pistol, she aimed it right at his head and put a knee in his chest, knocking him back. "Who are you? What do you want?" Charli shouted.

The stranger fell onto his back and saw the gun. He tried to reach for the pistol. "Shh! You're going to alert the Cabal."

Charli slapped away the hand, her heart beating wildly. The stranger immediately grabbed a large yellow rifle strapped to his back. She kept her composure and her aim, refusing to back down. "Drop the weapon and answer the questions or I'll blow your brains out!" Charli yelled.

The stranger wore armor that was mostly red but had swooping stripes of black and a similar coloration down the leg and onto the black boot. The red helmet had a wide black visor and what looked like metal feathers or spikes on the sides bearing the same colors as the uniform. "Keep your voice down, or we're all going to be dead. Look," the stranger said, placing his hands on the sides of his helmet and pulling it off as the air hissed out of it. Charli didn't care if he suffocated himself in the Martian atmosphere. "I'm a Guardian too," he said as if the words were supposed to mean something to her. He laid the helmet on the sand next to him and opening his hands to show he was unarmed. This person was actually a blue exo with glowing yellow eyes, something she wasn't used to seeing. "My name is Maximus. We were sent to pick you up." A small and spiked black orb with white dots hovered by Maximus' head, a blue light glowing prominently against his black shell. It almost looked like the night sky and probably accounted for the second voice she heard.

"Too? Pick me up?" Charli questioned. "I'm a lieutenant in the MFN. I'd suggest you grab your helmet and back away before I shoot you."

She had heard of Guardians, but only knew that they were crazies protecting a dead piece of technology on Earth. Word was that it had been on Mars long ago but had moved to Earth as things like the Fallen and Cabal resisted against humanity's, on civilization's, expanding borders.

"The MFN?" the 'guardian' laughed. "The Martian Federation was killed off centuries ago…" Something seemed to click in its brain. "That ghost was right," he whispered.

"Of course I was!" a feminine voice yelled following a whoosh and a small flash of light. Charli turned towards this light and redirected the pistol at a small white orb with a light blue eye and four white spikes hovering a few feet from her face. "A Ghost knows when its found its Guardian. That much I would hope you knew."

Charli put both hands on the pistol and continued pointing at it. "I don't know what you are, and I really don't care. Fact is, I'm about to pull this trigger on the both of you if you don't explain what's going on right now!"

Silence ensued. The 'ghost' floated forward and looked Charli up and down. "Charli Hendricks back in the flesh. You're a little worse for wear, but when we get you back to the Tower, everything will be alright."

Charli backed up a few steps from all three of them. "I'm not going anywhere with either of you! Tower? Guardian? You're nothing but a bunch of loons." She tightened her grip on the pistol and put a finger on the trigger, ready to pull it back.

Maximus put his helmet back on and stood up slowly, Charli immediately spinning on her heel and pointing it back at his head. He raised his hands again. "We're not here to harm you, but the Cabal are, and if you keep shouting, they're going to find us, and then nobody wins." Maximus took a step forward.

 _CRACK!_ Charli squeezed the trigger, but Maximus fluidly ducked beneath the shot and wrenched the pistol away from her, pointing it back at her face. "I'm not messing around anymore," he said, sounding much more threatening this time. "Come quietly or I'm going to have to restrain you, and I seriously don't want to do that."

She could see that the threat was not empty. The pistol in her face was, but he would take her down in a hurry, or at least he looked like he could. "Alright," the voice behind her shouted. "Maximus, put the gun down. The most this girl could to you now would be taking a swing at you and missing horribly. If you were going to restrain her, you should have done that while she was asleep. In all honesty, you ought to just give her the gun, so she can at least protect herself.

"Fine," Maximus spat at the Ghost behind Charli. He suddenly spun the pistol around in his hand, holding it out by the barrel. "Take it."

Slowly but surely, Charli felt the threat around her diminish, but the air still remained somewhat tense likely due to the Cabal's presence. While stationed on Mars about a year ago, the Cabal tried to fight their way past the wall of their base near a city called Ares' Haven. Brutes, that was the only way Charli could describe them. They tried to barge their way through their defenses, boasting superior weapons and thick armor, but ultimately, they failed to smash through due to a bombing run led by Charli and a few friends she lost only a month later. In her line of work, death was almost part of the job description.

Charli grabbed the pistol and tried to put it in a holster that did not exist, ending up dropping it in the sand. Once more, she retrieved it quickly and shook any sand out of it but kept it in her hand and started following this Maximus fellow only because she didn't have any other viable options.


	3. Life Moves On

**Chapter 2**

 **Life Moves On**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

 **10 hours earlier**

The biggest changes usually start out as nuances. Policies can change overnight, but the people that actually live out these laws usually don't. This I've come to know after all this time. Once I was a soldier in a defense force tasked with holding out against the Fallen and now I'm a Guardian. Seems like a big shift, but it really wasn't. I went from being a soldier to being a different type of soldier protecting an enigmatic and broken body as well as the last safe city on Earth and perhaps the solar system.

The repairs to the Wall had been completed much to the delight of the citizens and Zavala, but the number of Guardians, especially Titans, stationed there remained about constant if not increasing slightly. Some people still tossed Guardians wary glances, but those became increasingly infequent to the point that nobody noticed. The City was finally beginning to trust the Tower and the Guardians it housed.

All because Arla and I walked through the Garden, through Hell, and came back out in one piece.

Following the Heart of the Black Garden's destruction, light held captive by said fortress of the Darkness flooded back to the Traveler, and it ushered forth a new wave of Ghosts. Parades in Arla and my honors were thrown with the two of us basically becoming household names overnight after a series of speeches given by the Speaker, Arla, and myself. We were recognized and greeted wherever we went, even signing a few autographs if asked. The fame was great, but the sun eventually set, and what really mattered came into focus: The City lived on for another day.

Seeing influx of new and confused Guardians walking around the Tower was not only a blast from the not-so-distant past but also a welcome sight. New Guardians meant that many of them needed to be trained, skyrocketing the number of sales and activity around the Plaza as well as the need for able-bodied Guardians to escort Ghosts as they tried to find their Guardians. This is where I found myself today, a few weeks after the Fall of the Black Garden, but I had to do something first.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I powered up in my room. I sat up and let my vision come into focus, watching the world around me change from blurred to fine, gray to color. Starco, my black Ghost with small white spots like the stars, hovered near the wooden desk by the door, various items spread across its surface: the freshly cleaned but taken apart Multi-Tool, a pistol in a similar condition, and a fully constructed red, white, and blue machine gun. It was a heavy load for one desk, but it remained level and unbroken.

"Morning Maximus," Starco said.

"Morning," I returned, getting out of bed and stretching, my servos clicking as they popped back into place and use. Artificial lights turned on, lighting up the blue painted walls and yellow warlock symbol made of three interlocking triagnles.

"You ready for your meeting with the Speaker?" the Ghost asked.

I grabbed a silver ring of metal about the size of my arm and slid it up. A white and electric blue intricate design popped up out of an emitter lining the surface, and after a second, my armor started pushing through and forming on top of my body seemingly out of nowhere. I walked over to the mirror to make sure everything formed correctly. The armor was largely blood red with sweeping black stripes from the left shoulder to about belt level. The folded collar was black with a strap beneath it and red buckle with a similarly black trim. The same trim also ran down each sleeve but stayed off the gloves, pants, and boots. I adjusted the gauntlets a little bit and straightened the small shoulder pauldrons so they both felt more natural on my hands and shoulders respectively.

"I think a better question is are you ready to get out there and shoot some stuff?!" Super Good Advice, the machine gun on the desk, yelled in his voice fashioned like Patrick Warburton's, an actor from before the Golden Age. The gun had changed quite a bit since I'd taken it to Banshee the gunsmith to get it repaired. Since then, it took on a shoot first, ask questions later attitude, and said that was how all machine guns felt but couldn't express it like he could.

Starco turned to the gun. "We don't need to be shooting anything in the Tower."

"Of course not, do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"All right," I interrupted. "Settle down. There'll be time for both."

"There better be! I can feel the rust setting in again."

Starco floated over to me and whispered, "Do we really have to take this guy?"

"Yes Starco." The gun's personality reminded me a lot of Lee with his guns-first attitude, and that was fine, I just feared that it would speak at the wrong time.

"This guy has a name!" the gun retorted. "It's Crush, Ghost, remember that or you're the next one who'll get 'crush'ed." Starco sighed and blinked Crush onto the ship. "Let's get moving." I grabbed the yellow pulse rifle Dea gave to me mere seconds before she left as well as a white, solar fusion rifle Omolon gave me in a package. I nodded and walked through the door and took the elevator to the Plaza. Only to be prepared, I reassembled the Vestian Dynasty pistol I'd recently cleaned placed that in a holster on my leg. I had no plans of using it, but it was a good thing to have if by some chance I ran out of batteries for the fusion rifle Omolon christened The Torch.

Most days in the City were beautiful. In the morning, the Sun would cast brilliant shades of orange and red on the few clouds above the City and by the afternoon, most of those clouds would be gone. Sunlight would flood the streets and surrounding area all except for one spot placed almost directly beneath the Traveler where the Guardian memorial was, where glowing flowers illuminated the area, one for each Guardian that would never be returning. Evening would then set in and cast everything in deep purples and blood reds as people returned from work, and more Guardians were sent to the Tower for the graveyard shift. Lights all around the City would cast their artificial halos on the area around them and provide the light whilst the Traveler and Sun remained dormant.

Stepping out of the elevator door, it became apparent that today would not be like most other days. It was raining, pretty hard at that. Drops of water rained down from the sky like fat and wet bullets atop any uncovered heads. The flurry of activity that usually went about the Plaza at this time in the morning was held to a drizzle. Almost all of the Guardians out there were wearing their helmets to keep themselves for the most part dry. There were a couple of them who didn't really care though, a matte black female Exo and a male Awoken. Lightning flashed across the sky as powerful wind due to the Tower's altitude whipped around anything that was not heavy or secure. Titan marks, Hunter cloaks, my robe, all of these flayed out to join the wind's rush.

Starco spawned in my black and red helmet, and I pulled it over my head. The HUD quickly came online, the motion tracker momentarily replaced with a weather radar decorated with blobs of yellow and red passing over my position in a continuous loop. The storm was going to be nasty but should dissipate eventually. The rain picked up in intensity, drowning much of the the cityscape below the Tower into a dull mist of white; wind continued whipping my robe around as the Guardians in the Plaza hastily finished whatever they were doing and moved to some sort of shelter, some rushing to the elevator while others moved towards the hangar. I was the only one moving to Tower North. I pushed through the rain, stepping in growing puddles all along the way until I reached the tunnel.

Tower North was practically empty whenever I arrived. Executor Hideo was sitting on a couch talking to a couple of his New Monarchy compatriots. He sent me a wave as I exited the tunnel and rushed into the Speaker's study.

The strange contraption in the center of the room still swirled, dipped, and rotated like normal, however the usually amazing view was cut short by large metal curtains to keep the rain out. I'd never seen them drawn, but I also didn't think they would just let everything inside be vulnerable to the elements. The Speaker was pouring over some ancient text when I reached the top of the stairs, his white armor reflecting the artificial light of the room rather than whatever the Sun dealt.

He closed the text and turned towards me, putting his hands behind his back. "A storm gathers," he said. "I can sense it. Something much more sinister is stirring."

I was slightly taken aback by the Speaker's statement. I felt like he was calling me to action. Realizing my helmet was still on, I took it off and let Starco despawn it. "Um, is there something you'd like me to do?"

The Speaker turned and scribbled something in a leather-bound notebook on his desk. "No. No, no, no," he said, waving his hands. "It's none of your concern for the moment." He rolled his shoulders a few times before continuing. "Quite a storm today."

Indeed it was. "Can't say I've seen one quite like that since I became a Guardian," I responded.

"Ah yes," he said, sitting down in a chair and gesturing me to do the same with a chair behind me, folding my arms and leaning back in it. "I remember that day quite well." I saw a plush rolling chair behind me and sat down in it. "5 or 6 months ago if I memory serves me correctly."

"Feels much longer than that," I said with a laugh, remembering that day just like it was yesterday, the nightmares and the selection. I unfolded a hand and summoned an orb of energy. "This one's not going to explode though." I dissipated the orb and put my hand back in the fold.

"You're still the only one. I will say though, we had this Titan come in here for the test. Arcs shot all over the room." The rain intensified yet again, marking the end of the lull, if one could call it that, in the heavy rain. "Enough dallying. You said you had some questions for me?"

"I've just had some things on my mind the last couple of weeks that I really want to get your opinion on."

"I'm all ears." The Speaker sat back in his chair.

"Back in the Garden, some things happened that maybe you could clarify. One of the first was that Starco and I saw some Vex literally disappear into thin air. One moment they were chasing us, and the next they were gone."

"May I ask why you're asking me these things now after almost a month?" The Speaker asked, perplexed my sudden coming forth.

"I wanted to try and find some answers on my own, do my own research, but I've uncovered practically nothing in the Grimoire and other texts we have. The Cryptarchs were a little more helpful, but not by much." I had dug through many books, battle reports involving the Vex, and other records, but none of them talked about vanishing Vex.

"A very Warlock thing to do. I can't say that I'll be of much help either because I've never heard of this phenomenon. I can think of two possible reasons. The first is that those Vex were not really there but in a completely different time stream altogether and your being there let you see partially into that alternate reality. I can't support this in any way, but it was a thought. The second thing that comes immediately to mind is the concentration of Darkness there. It's been years since I've been out in the field, but I do recall that when the Darkness is thick enough, it felt like a heavy river or something along those lines. Given that the Black Garden is called that for a reason, I suspect that the Darkness may have gotten to you slightly and made you hallucinate."

"That's kind of like what I wanted to talk about next. In the Garden, the Vex seemed to have a sort of control over myself and Arla."

"What kind of control?"

"They would make this searing pain come out of nowhere that would drive both of us to the ground, and it wouldn't stop until the Vex were eliminated or something else."

"Something else?"

"That's part of the third question. If it's all the same to you, can you answer the second one?"

"Right, right. I've seen things like this before. A Guardian can be touched by the Darkness. It's barely noticeable if at all when it happens, but it can happen after a Guardian's armor is destroyed in battle. If I'm not mistaken, that happened to you and Arla correct?"

"I remember mine all too clearly, but I don't quite remember what happened to Arla for that to happen. It was when we were invading the Devils' Lair in the Cosmodrome. The Fallen sent in a Spider Walker and I took a direct hit. Took out all of the cloth on my armor and left me with the plating that seemed to slowly dull."

"That's it then. You and your partner were touched by the Darkness. Question is: are you still? Because if the minions of the Darkness used it against you once, they'll certainly use it again."

I shifted in my chair. "I can honestly say that I don't think I am any longer. When we faced the Heart, the Vex used that grip they had on myself and Arla to essentially take us out of the fight, but just as everything seemed to be fading to black, something...ignited. Like a flame erupting out of tinder. I was bathed in light, and it spread to Arla when I touched her."

"How long did this last?"

"Not long. Only long enough for me to channel all of my remaining energy into an orb I sent directly into the Heart. After that, it dissipated and left me feeling drained."

"That was something I've seen called the 'Blessing of the Traveler.' As far as the records show, this hasn't happened in the last couple centuries, but I find it quite remarkable and strange that the Traveler marked you, and I knew nothing of it. Why didn't you come to me as soon as it happened?"

I thought back to that day. Getting out of the infirmary after some beam of light struck me in the head, saying I needed to meet with him immediately, but then going to lunch and things that ensued shortly thereafter. In hindsight, I should've come to the Speaker immediately, but I didn't. "I believe you and the Vanguard tried to visit me after that beam of Light struck me, but I wasn't conscious. Then things got busy as they always do, and meeting with you seemed to have slipped my mind."

"While I prefer on time, late is always better than never, so thank you for coming to me. I should have requested a meeting with you when you were back on your feet, but hindsight is 20/20. The past is in the past, and we need to focus on the future. Speaking of, I hear you have an assignment to help a Ghost find its Guardian."

"That I do. We'll be leaving soon, but I figured this meeting had been delayed enough."

"I thank you for coming in. You must have no end of questions Maximus, and my door is always open to give whatever answers I can. Just to end this conversation on a better note, how's Arla doing? I heard she took some time off after what went down in the Garden."

It was true, Arla had been on vacation, but it wasn't long before the call to action drove her back to some sort of duty. At first, we both were playing some baseball games with the City's various teams, not for PR this time, but because we could. After that, Cayde and Zavala sent me to scout out a few things on Venus, including finding the remnants of the Ishtar Collective and the massive amounts of data that Starco collected from those archives before setting up a firewall to protect the data from the Fallen that had been trying to enter and ultimately followed us in. As far as I knew, Arla had gotten herself on some sort of mission shortly thereafter while I was gone. Since then, she'd been spending a lot of time with this Guardian named Heksis and at the baseball stadium. Today she was playing in another game, and this Heksis character was becoming quite the hitter and outfielder from what I've heard.

"Arla's doing fine. She's played a lot of baseball since going on vacation while I've been doing things for the Vanguard."

"Ah, yes. I've seen a few highlights of those games. Quite the player she is, and an even better Huntress. Send her my regards when you see her next," he said, standing up.

I stood up as well. "I will."

"May the Light guide your path," the Speaker said.

"As with you." I nodded and started down the stair, pausing to push the chair in before I left. I walked slowly down the stairs, taking each step one at a time as I descended. Starco flashed in next to me but didn't say anything. He just sent a thought. 'That went well.' I agreed. While I may not pieced everything entirely, I certainly felt a little more at ease with the events from the Black Garden. I put my helmet back on at the bottom of the stairs and walked back into the downpour, quickly running to the tunnel. Once there, I stopped for a moment. There was something different. I looked around and tried using the targeting matrix in the helmet to spot the difference. The walls were still blue and dull silver. Crates, check. Robot mopping a tile and glaring at any passersby? Still creepy. The robot hissed and went back to mopping the tile. There were still stairs like always, but the entire area was darker than normal due to the rain, making the shadows longer and blacker and stretching them across the concrete.

It felt like something was watching me, eyeing my every move, predicting what I was going to do next. Suddenly I heard the rustle of cloth. I spun around immediately, sweeping my left arm as I spun and catching the figure leaping out of the shadows. Using my momentum, I pushed the figure to the ground and kept it pinned with my forearm pushing its neck. Glowing green eyes looked up at me as a smile stretched across the lips below them, suddenly parting and beginning to laugh. The blue face with a hint of green to it laughed hysterically as I recognized who it was and pulled her to her feet. "Dang. You got me again." Arla, my teammate and friend, chuckled. This wasn't the first time she'd tried to sneak attack me. She was by far one of the best Hunters/Huntresses around.

"I do my best to stay on my toes," I responded with a shrug. Arla wasn't wearing a helmet currently, but her shoulder-length brown hair was distinctly dry. We both started up the stairs and talked as we approached the Plaza. "What are you doing here? Thought you had a game."

"I do," she responded with a smile still on her face. "But if you couldn't tell, it's kind of raining, and the maintenance staff over at the stadium didn't put the roof up before the storm started, so we're waiting for it to dry out hopefully in time before first pitch."

"It should. You sure you don't want to come along with me?" I asked, stopping at the end of the tunnel and watching the water rain down in almost in white sheets. The Plaza was now void of all shopkeepers as the wind howled.

"As much as I would love to keep you out of trouble, Hek and I are already signed up for today's game, and you know me. I'm not going to back out last second…"

"Or any second for that matter," I added.

Arla laughed. "Darn right. Ready to head back out into the rain?"

I looked back out at the daunting weather. "At least you don't have to fly in it."

"That's why you fly fast, Max." Arla looked at the weather. Her helmet flashed into existence and she pulled it over her head, completing her set of purple and red armor by pulling the similarly red and purple cloak over the helmet. On the count of three, we'll run to the hangar." We both got into running stances. 3...2...1...Go!" We stepped off simultaneously and sprinted into the rain, splashing through puddles and pushing through the strong winds. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, originating from some place I couldn't see. I got out to an early lead but lost it like I did my footing for only a second. Suddenly, I was watching the cloak fly around behind her. "Whoa!" Arla exlaimed as her footing slipped, but she recovered and kept most of her momentum as she slid across the large puddle.

Wind raced and pushed both of us as we ran. The entrance to the Hangar was only getting closer when my footing slipped yet again and caused me to slide. The slide worked to my advantage though as I quickly gained a couple of inches on Arla, skidding uncontrollably into the Hangar entrance and crashing into the wall behind it. Arla tried to stop as well, but found herself flying into a crate and then the wall.

"And they're SAFE!" a voice yelled from nearby. I looked up and saw a Warlock in a blue robe and opaque red visor bent over with his arms spread out. All three of us started laughing at the joke as the Guardian extended a hand to help those of us on the ground. His strong hands pulled Arla and me to our feet, and we both removed our helmets, but he kept his on.

"Morning Heksis," she said with a smile, wrapping her arm around the Warlock and he around her. Heksis was a little shorter than Arla but still rather intimidating. Two modified swords hung by his sides along with two orange hand cannons as well. He was a self-proclaimed close-quarters-combat specialist, but despite a rough exterior, he had a warm and almost fuzzy personality about him. While this was true, he had his days where he seemed a bit rough on the inside and the outside. "Ready for baseball?" she asked cheerily.

Hek's voice was smooth, but he had an odd tendency to expand "ah" sounds or hiss with an s. It was probably just his accent or maybe a minor speech impediment. I couldn't be too sure because he kept much of his personal life and past to himself in my few encounters with him. In all honesty, he seemed a bit secluded, preferring to stick to places with fewer people or none at all. At times, Heksis looked a little socially awkward, in over his head with large crowds, but he undoubtedly tried his best to make conversation with those he deemed worth his time. If they weren't, he would grunt and just walk the other way, looking for someone he thought was worth the air. Whether it was because of my relation to Arla or he thought I was in his select few I knew not, but he seemed to have taken a certain liking to me.

"You know it," he responded. "At least, as soon as all this rain goes away, or those buffoons at the field get it dry. Did they even bother to check the weather forecast?" I guess today was one of those days. He sounded annoyed, angry even despite his friendly joke.

I took off my helmet and tossed it to the side, Starco despawning it before it hit the ground. "That was kind of dumb on their part."

"Dumb? If I were their boss, I'd...oof" Arla squeezed the arm she had wrapped around him. She may not have looked it, but she was strong, strong enough to even rival my own physical abilities. It quickly became obvious that he did not wake up on the right side of the bed this morning.

"Well, I'll leave you two to your baseball," I said. "Sadly, I have to get on the road." I turned around and started walking down the hallway to the hangar. Behind me I heard the quick shuffle of feet. It turned back just in time for Arla to run into me and wrap her arms around me. She looked me in the eyes. "Be careful out there. Don't die on me again." She was serious, and I could tell. Shortly before the Garden, I'd accidentally put her through the emotional wringer, and it seemed to have humbled her a little more. She seemed to have realized the mortality of Guardians after her long-time friend Advira Mezzer died at the Devils' Lair, but then realized her own when I'd died by being crushed in that warehouse.

"I will," I promised. "Who knows. I might even be back with a new member for our fireteam."

"I look forward to it. Now get out there," she said with a smile, retreating back to Heksis and walking back toward the Plaza. I walked to the end of the hallway and descended down the steps.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Present**

This was my first time back on Mars since the Black Garden. Memories from that nightmare crept back into my mind. Memories of Dea, the Darkness, despair, even death eased their way back into my consciousness, trying to make me relive those moments before it was destroyed. I shook them away. Dea disappeared, the Darkness was on the ropes, and I wouldn't let it get to me again. Death...well death was just par for the course. I remembered my promise to Arla, let it be my anchor to life. My death back then had destroyed her, and I wasn't about to let that happen again.

I kept walking, sand crunching beneath my feet as we got to the top of yet another dune. The Sun was about to come up and relieve us of any advantage we may or may not have had while moving in the dark. Now it was just a matter of who found the other first, Charli and me or the Cabal.

We'd been walking at a brisk pace for the best part of two hours by this point, and I could tell Charli was getting tired, her posture slumped and steps labored. Her Ghost was floating next to her shoulder, likely giving her the a similar spiel that Starco gave me all that time ago back at the cosmodrome, and judging by her nods, she seemed to be listening and steadily coming to grips with her new situation.

I stopped at the top of the next dune and waited for her to catch up. At the top, Charli leaned forward and put her hands on her knees. "And I thought I walked fast," she joked, attempting to lighten the air around us, but I was on alert for the Cabal. She straightened up, but her voice still sounded tired. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot." She extended a hand. "I'm Charli Hendricks, apparently a former lieutenant in the Martian Federation Navy."

I turned to face her. I couldn't see her face because of the opaque helmet the starter armor came with, but she was undoubtedly human or Awoken. The armor she wore was entirely white, with a few gray patches and a black undersuit. It looked like it fit her well, but the armor was thin, structurally unable to take more than a couple hits before the shields collapsed and armor snapped.

I grabbed the hand. "I'm Maximus, Warlock for the Vanguard."

"Nice to meet you, so would you mind explaining what's going on here?"

"I'm afraid that's not exactly my department," I responded, looking out over the sands again. In the distance I could see the super volcano Olympus Mons towering far above any dune. It was still quite some distance away, but it was so tall and wide that it took up a good portion of the skyline in front of us and would dominate our terrain if we continued moving forward, the ground beginning to noticeably slope upwards approximately three miles from where we stood.

"I meant what are we still doing here? Shouldn't we be off to the Tower or something, see this Traveler?"

I looked off into the distance. I could see something, a tiny dot in a nearby rock formation overlooking a small canyon. That was it. "Secondary objective," I stated simply. "Vanguard told me to take your Ghost here because they had reasons to believe a possible new Guardian was in the area. They also mentioned that there may be a Cabal base nearby, so I should be careful." I pointed to that dot in the distance. "You see that?" Charli moved a few steps forward and nodded. "Yeah," she responded.

"That's probably the Cabal base they were talking about, and we're about to go get some recon on it. In and out may even get to fire a couple bullets."

Charli spun the white pistol on her finger. "Then let's do it," she said confidently. I could imagine a smile coming across her face.

I summoned a Sparrow. It was a brand new frame and engine that I'd built myself with a little hlep from Amanda Holliday, the Tower's shipwright. I had it connected to my armor, so that its paint scheme would change to whatever my armor was when I sat down on it. Its base color was white, but when I sat down on it, it changed to a base red with black lines that only accentuated the red, especially across the two prongs on the front. The engines burned purple due to the Potassium chloride solution I put in the engines as a completion liquid, creating the purple trail. I moved up on the seat to allow Charli to get on and motioned her forward.

She cautiously approached, eyeing the engines carefully before climbing on. "What's this?" she asked, looking around the vehicle and seeing that it was hovering a foot off the ground.

"We call them Sparrows. You may want to hold on." She wrapped her arms around my torso, tenatively at first, before crossing her arms there and grabbing a hold of my robe. I grabbed the handle bar and squeezed the accelerator. We instantly shot forward, screaming across the frozen Martian desert and crossing over the dunes that took us 10 minutes to get up and over in only a matter of seconds. I swerved around large rocks and dunes I knew would slow us down but kept my eyes solidly on the steadily growing dot in the distance.

Charli certainly seemed to take an instant enjoyment to the speed and turns, shouting excitedly and hollering with each dune I ramped and swerved around. "This is awesome!" she screamed. "Almost like flying a starfighter."

"You a former pilot?" I shouted behind me.

"I did a little bit of everything: land, air, space, but I was in a starfighter more times than not."

"That's good. You'll be doing a lot of flying as a Guardian." The dot in the distance was getting larger, starting to look like a cave or something along those lines. "We'll get you a ship once we get back to the Tower." I kept an eye on that cave in the distance, our entry point to the Cabal base. After that, we rode in relative silence, the only sound coming from Charli's steady breathing and the whir of the engine as the sand seemed to level out the closer we got.

My thoughts turned back to my first day as a Guardian not too long ago, but so much had happened since then. The Fallen had destroyed a piece of the Wall, resulting in a somewhat tense relationship between the Tower and the City until its repairs were finished not too long ago. Arla and I found a Fallen base practically right underneath the City and destroyed it, or at least caused it to self-destruct. Then there the…"Maximus!"

I pulled myself out of my thoughts and looked up just in time to see a large boulder in front of us. I made a grab for the brakes, but there was no way we were going to stop before metal met stone. "Jump!" I shouted. Without an delay, the arms clasped around my torso released and the Sparrow got lighter. I looked to make sure Charli was clear before I leapt off on the right side scarcely before the gases in the engine exploded, the blast echoing through the air.

The sand felt like concrete as I slammed into it and rolled out the rest of my momentum. The initial impact jostled me a little bit, knocking my head around inside the helmet but nothing too badly. Eventually, I stopped and found myself face down in the sand. If the Cabal didn't know we weren't here, their sensors definitely picked up the explosion, or something of their heard the explosion. I pulled myself to my knees and got back on my feet. Charli was lying on her back nearby, a hand on her helmet. "Well, that didn't go as planned," I said, establishing a comms link with her.

Charli faintly chuckled. "Not the smoothest landing but definitely not the roughest by far."

I stretched out my back. "What landing takes the cake there?"

Charli sat up. "I would have to say the one that apparently killed me a few centuries ago. Never thought I'd say that."

"Yeah. Welcome to the undead then," I replied. Charli laughed for a few moments, but then it subsided. "Maximus," she started. "What does red on this circle thing mean? I'd like to say it's on my HUD."

I knew exactly what that meant. "Crap. Fine some cover! It's the Cabal!" Charli looked left and right for something to get behind, but there was nothing but sand. There was the rock that we crashed into, but that was where they were coming from. "There is none!" she radioed back.

"Just get back. Find a dune and stay there."I drew the pulse rifle Dea gave me, turning the safety off and the full-auto mode on. It was a long, yellow rifle with a rear-loaded magazine. The sights were holographic and activated whenever I raised them close to my eye. According to Starco, parts of this weapon shouldn't even exist yet, but they do for whatever reason. I sometimes questioned why she gave this to me, but now was not the time for questioning.

I heard footsteps behind me. "No," Charli refused. "I'm staying here. Cowards run from the fight." 'You sound like Arla,' I thought.

Suddenly, streaking across the Martain sky were several large creatures dressed in thick, silver and blue armor, carrying heavy weapons and/or shields. There were five of them: two Legionaries, two shield-bearing Phalanxes, and a single Centurion bearing a grenade-launching Projection Rifle. They were going to tear us to shreds while we were out in the open.

"Get back!" I shouted. "Get back!" Shots from the Cabal screamed through the air, missing us as we backed up, but keeping us from turning our backs and running. For whatever reason, Charli was sticking uncomfortably close to my side, only making us bigger targets than we actually were. I raised my weapon and managed to get off a couple shots before having to duck beneath one that would have struck me in the head. Charli drew her pistol and fired only a couple of shots before she too had to dodge. I fired off a couple more shots, taking out one of the Legionaries. I then aimed at one of the Phalanxes and shot it in the leg. Their almost black blood started to ooze out of it and stain the sand, the pain surprising the soldier a little but adrenaline keeping it on its feet. Charli started strafing to the right and shooting as she ran. I booked it to the left to try and split their efforts.

Charli drew the attention of both phalanxes, giving me a clear shot at their backs. The arc-plasma that shot out of the barrel passed right through the weaker armor on their backs and killed them within a matter of seconds. I reloaded, and the remaining Legionary launched into the air, aiming to cush Charli. "Look out!" I shouted at her just as the Cabal soldier smashed down on her.

I noticed a growing shadow where I stood and looked up. Out of nowhere, the Centurion materialized in the sky, shooting at me as it fell. I rolled out of the way and quickly grabbed Super Good Advice from my back. "Ooo! My turn!" it shouted. I slammed a box of bullets into the side and pulled the bandolier to the firing chamber, shutting it and priming it while dodging fire the entire time. "Yeah! Let's kick some..." I pulled the trigger and sprayed the bullets all over the Centurion trying to dig itself out of the dirt. The solar shields that covered it quickly disappeared, but the rocket thrusters on its back fired and carried it out of the sand and away from my bullets. While in the air, it fired a couple of shots at me, the explosions hitting the ground but knocking me to the side again.

The Centurion landed, and I quickly blinked behind it, spraying bullets all down its back and igniting the fuel for its jump jets, not helped by the solar ammo Crush used, and engulfing it in flames. "Burn baby burn!" Crush shouted.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The Legionary was heavy, obviously trying to crush her with its weight. What it didn't count on was her dropping to the ground at the last second and kicking. Charli hadn't expected it to work, but it seemed that her suit gave her a little more power to the kick, landing it right on the bottom of the weapon and sending it several feet out of reach.

The Legionary doubled its efforts and pinned her to the sand, the sand shifting below her and swallowing her legs. She struggled beneath it for a second before looking up and seeing a hulking fist rise up. Charli tried to move her arms to try and swat away the arm, but her hands too were sinking into the sand, getting pinned by the weight of resistance of the sand.

At the last possible second, she moved her head just enough to the side to barely avoid the fist. Sand sprayed into the air as the fist impacted the ground and retracted. The Legionary followed it with the other fist, but Charli once again got barely out of the way. However, she did not see the third strike coming in from the side, smashing into the side of her helmet and turning everything dark for a second before it powered back up, though somewhat hazy. The white bar at the top of her HUD was a little past two-thirds of the way gone and cloaked in a bright red. Her head hurt, and she couldn't tell if the haziness was coming from her helmet or her own eyes, probably a little of both. She tried to make sense of the dark shapes moving above her and narrowly avoided another fist. It cleared up just in time for her to free her hands and catch the next attempt at smashing her face in.

The fist was heavy as she pushed back against the massive amount of force the Cabal's muscles were exerting. She could tell the suit's systems were working overtime to help keep her grip and strength on the hand trying so hard to end her life. Charli grunted with the effort to keep the fist at bay, she could tell that it was descending slowly, putting her arms in increasingly uncomfortable angles as she sought a way out. She quickly tossed her head around, catching a glimpse of Maximus trying to deal with the Centurion on her left and the white pistol just out of arms' reach on her right.

Charli could feel the enormous pressure the fist was exerting and pushed harder than she thought she was able to, the fist beginning to pull back. The Legionary unleashed a powerful roar, and the fist once again began its way down towards her. Charli's arms were exhausted by this point, sweat beading on her hair and dripping to the back of her helmet. Using her last bit of strength, she pushed the fist off to the left and stretched out to the right. Her fingers brushed the pistol but didn't quite grab a hold of it, instead knocking the barrel closer to her with the grip now opposite of her oustretched hand. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw the Legionary trying to dig his arm out of the sand, the force he put behind it sinking into the sand and trapping it much like her own legs.

Just as she turned back to the pistol, the Cabal freed its fist and cocked it back, roaring in fury as it prepared to punch. Suddenly, there was a sharp metal clang that cut off the roar as Charli had finally grabbed the pistol and whacked the Legionary with the grip. She quickly turned the pistol around and fired a single shot into its head a point blank. A combination of gases and blood rushed out, coating Charli's white armor in the almost black liquid just before the water in it evaporated due to the drop in pressure. She tried to use her hands to try and keep the gore off her but failing miserably. Now just to get the oaf off of her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The Legionary slumped over, issuing forth its disgusting liquids after Charli shot it. She'd handled getting pinned pretty well, doing her best not to get crushed and then killing it. With a little training, she'd probably make a great Guardian in whatever class the Traveler thought suited her best. I blinked over to her as she struggled to get the 800 pound Cabal off of her legs. "You alright?" I asked.

"Yeah. My head hurts a little bit, but I'm ok otherwise." she said, her breathing a little quick but getting enough oxygen nonetheless. "Kinda would like to get this oaf off of me." The front of her white armor was darkened by the blackish blood of the Legionary. Her helmet was also dented on the side, but that didn't matter much because she'd be in much better armor not too long from now.

"I figured," I responded, placing my hands beneath the Cabal and lifting. I then lifted her out of the sand and set her on her feet. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem," I returned. "Hey Starco," I said to my Ghost. "Bring the ship in. I think just the location of this base will do."

"You got it. Ship ETA 30 seconds," he responded. Something rumbled in the distance. A sound echoed almost like a… Suddenly, a Goliath Tank charged through the dune with the rock, sending the boulder into the sky and crashing a few hundred feet from its original spot. "We need to go. Come on!" I shouted, summoning a Sparrow and pulling her on. I squeezed the accelerator, and the engines roared to life, rocketing us forward with the Tank in hot pursuit, its four rocketed legs hauling the hulking armored frame and heavy cannon at incredible speeds. "Starco!" I shouted over the whir of the engines. "Kinda need the ship now!"

"I'm working on it, but it's still going to take some time. 20 seconds maybe."

Crush piped up. "Just turn around and let me take care of 'im! That tank'll never know what hit him."

"Not now Crush," I warned.

"Who's Crush?" Charli asked as I maneuvered through another volley of plasma fire from the tank.

"I'll explain later."

The gun started screaming again. "I'm the best Machine Gun you'll ever lay eyes on sweetheart. Now Max let the lady drive and let's blow this sucker out of the water, uh, sand. You know what I mean. Let's shoot stuff!"

"Not going to happen. Now be quiet or you won't see the field again for a while."

"Now hold up a sec…" the gun started. Suddenly, a large, orange blast from the main cannon crashed into the ground next to us and exploded, kicking the back end of the sparrow out, but I maintained control. "Okay then...shutting up."

I dodged yet another volley of fire from the tank as it smashed through yet another dune. "Starco, where's the ship?" I asked again. "Reinforcements are only getting closer."

"It's coming in for a run, cool your circuits!" I looked into the distance and saw a small spec of bright green. The dot steadily grew into three distinct shapes, two large engines on the sides with the rectangular cockpit and small number of other rooms behind it in the central area. The closer it got, the more I could make out, like the main gun jutting out from beneath the cockpit and the black parts only making the bright green paint pop out even more. The _Vintage Russian Soul_ I called it after I found a blueprint on a scouting mission in another Old Russsian cosmodrome. Amanda Holliday and her army of robots assembled it amazingly quick, and it was quite a step up from the ARCADIA that I flew around before.

I turned around to Charli for a moment. "Ship's coming in low and fast, so it's gonna get loud for a second," I shouted to her. She nodded her acknowledgement just as a shot from the tank's main cannon seared the air over us with a loud _BANG_. My ship rolled out of the way and let loose a barrage of its own plasma fire from the main cannon and the secondary cannons located on each of the engines/wings. I didn't need to look behind me to know that they hit their mark because we both could feel the heat and shockwave from the explosion, however the sound was drowned out by the _Soul_ 's engines as it screamed overhead, the sound actually following the ship due to its speed. The autopilot pulled up to cancel the excess speed and came back down, speeding in front of us by a few hundred yards and stopping with the entrance ramp lowered.

I looked behind us again to see that Charli was as well. "I think we're clear," she said.

"I think so too," I concurred, not seeing anything else tailing us. "Welcome to the average day of a Guardian. Wake up, get shot at, return home."

"Sounds about normal for me," she said with a laugh. I stopped the sparrow close to the ship and blinked myself aboard, the ship doing the same for Charli. It was time to introduce her to her new home.

*Just a small author's note. Heksis is actually a character my good friend PegLegDregNeedsTheirMeds created that I'm using with his permission and assistance. He's currently working on a (new) story for his character that's going to be awesome. Give him a shout if you'd like.


	4. The Past and Future

**Chapter 3**

 **The Past and Future**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

Charli and I flashed in just a few inches forward from the lowered entrance ramp, said primary entrance having been foregone in favor for a quicker blink onto the ship. Now aboard the ship, I landed confidently from the foot or so up that I'd blinked above the floor. Charli's feet stuttered for a moment when she landed, her balance quickly recovering. "Whoa," she said as she caught herself. "That's new."

"You get used to it after awhile," I said. "Let's get you back to the Tower." I moved towards the middle of the ship where I kept areas of storage, unbuckling and shedding my weapons, arm bond, and robe as well as the gauntlets on my hands. Underneath the robe, I wore a black, sleeveless shirt almost entirely covered by dark, sturdy plates of metal armor that kept any projectile from searing straight through my robe and into me whenever my shields failed. My hands now free of the somewhat bulky gloves, I took off my helmet and placed it in a small cubby along with the gauntlets. The robe, I hung on a hook just in front of the storage space.

Charli sat down in one of the passenger seats folded into the wall and buckled the safety harness while I raised the entrance ramp from the pilot's chair. I tapped through a few screens to ensure everything was going to function long enough to get into the Martian orbit and disengaged the autopilot, gripping the stick with one hand and the ship's version of an accelerator in the other. I peered around the edge of the head rest on my seat. "Ready?" I asked. Charli simply nodded and grabbed the metal bars that had extended out of the wall in case she needed to grab onto something.

I flipped a switch on the console to disengage hover mode and started pushing the accelerator forward on its track, listening to the whirr of the engines increase on volume and pitch to the point it became inaudible and the ship shot forward with incredible speed. Just to toy with Charli a little bit, I did a couple of aileron rolls before pulling up slightly, trying to keep the Gs to a minimum. Then again, she was a pilot, so it didn't surprise me to see that she was just fine when I looked back. In fact, it looked like excitement was edging its way onto her face.

The Martian atmosphere steadily grew darker and darker until countless stars dotted the viewport, and a bright sun caused the light filter to kick in, so neither of us would go blind. I leveled out my flight and let the autopilot maneuver the ship into a steady orbit around Mars. Initiating a few diagnostic tests, I turned the chair around and asked, "Artificial gravity or zero g?"

Charli looked lost in thought when I spoke. She noticed my gaze after a second or two, her head perking up and eyes staring into mine. "Hmm? What was that?" she responded, now paying attention.

I changed my question, instead asking her, "You alright?" I crossed my legs and leaned back in my seat.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a moment." I immediately put my head in my hand, shaking it back and forth. It took her a second, but then she realized what she'd done. "Whoops. Sorry Maximus," she said with a lighthearted chuckle. "I guess you could say that was 'pun'intentional." A devious smile was etched on her face.

"Ugh," I flung myself on the back part of the seat, the chair spinning around when I did.

"Alright, alright, I'm done. I promise." She refocused on the question, the smile still on her face. "I think I'm fine now. Didn't mean to pun."

"It's okay. We all do it from time to time. What's on your mind?"

"Oh, I won't bother you with it. Finding me must have been trouble enough." she said, literally trying to wave the question off with her hand.

She wasn't wrong. Spending several hours on this sort of mission was commonplace but not somewhere in the ten to twelve range. That was reserved for those who wouldn't stop searching or found someone. I had no doubt that the Vanguard was already growing suspicious of the latter as I'd been consistently successful on ops over the last couple weeks. "No seriously. This is probably one of the last times we won't be in a hurry for a few weeks, so please speak your mind. Besides, we've got a few minutes while these diagnostics run."

"Why didn't you do them back on Mars?" Charli asked, curious.

"I didn't want to stick around in that war zone any longer than I absolutely had to. If we hadn't stirred a hornets' nest, we'd probably still be down there. But chances are that wasn't their only tank."

Starco flashed in. "It wasn't. I checked. A pair of tanks along with a couple dozen more Cabal busted in there scarcely a minute after we left."

"At least we know where the base is," Charli added, optimistically.

"That we do, so what else is on your mind? I was in your shoes not too long ago, so I know how you feel to a certain extent."

Charli clasped her hands together. "I was just thinking about how fast everything has taken place. It seems like just yesterday I was fighting for my life against the Fallen and then crash landing on Mars. Then I wake up in the rusted cockpit below the sand and have to dig my way out." I looked at the dusty streaks of orange-red that marred the white surface of her armor. I wondered how long she'd been digging her way out. Hours? Days? "Now, I'm here, apparently a Guardian."

"Yeah. Just an FYI, not all of us are loons. Most of us are actually doing something to protect the City, and I don't think any of the Guardians will take kindly to be called one."

Charli tried to scratch the back of her neck but realized there was armor and a helmet in the way. "Oh? I forgot this was even on." She put her hands on the bottom of her helmet and pulled it off, the pressure equalling out with a gentle hiss. Charli had pasty white skin, likely due to her extended time in space, and auburn hair that meshed well with her sea blue eyes. She had thin lips that weren't quite red but not pink either. Altogether, her face screamed youth and beauty but also screamed experience, like she'd seen some messed up things in her short life. I could only imagine the horrors she would likely see during her tenure as a Guardian.

I silently chuckled. "Yeah, I've done that a couple times. Sometimes it feels as if this armor is a part of me." Starco whispered in my head, 'That's kind of the point Captain Obvious.'

"Soldiers will be soldiers, I guess. Speaking of, you're absolutely sure I died years ago?"

"Positive," I said matter-of-factly. "Pretty much the only way to be a Guardian as far as I know."

"So then, that means you died as well." The statement sounded closer to a question, but I nodded anyway. "What's your story then?"

This was a question I'd been asked with increasing frequency. Reporters, authors, and the general public wanted to pick my brain if they ever caught me in the City. Arla's had a similar experience, but she's better with people than I ever will be. "I used to be a soldier in the Allied Earth Army, tasked with pushing back the Fallen when they first invaded Earth. They'd pushed us back all the way to a cosmodrome in Old Russia and wiped us out there. I ran away but was killed by a Captain not long after the first Fallen arrived there."

"Hmm…" was the only thing she said at first, keeping it that way for several seconds as she pondered the abbreviated version of my story for her own personal reasons. "How have those skills transferred into what you do now?"

"One second," I said, holding up my index finger. There had been a ding about midway through her last sentence, a notification that the diagnostics were finished. As I looked over the reports, I heard the click of a seatbelt unlatching followed by heavy boots going across the metal floor. I looked to my right and saw Charli's eyes following the text and different reports from the various screens. At first she seemed hesitant to speak, probably out of courtesy. "Something wrong?" I asked, inviting her opinion. She did say she was a pilot after all.

"Nothing, but I could've sworn that I'd seen some parts I recognized from my time as a pilot." Her voice was confident but cautious with just a hint of curiosity hidden somewhere in the undertone. Her arm shot out. "There! The shield module! You said its been a few centuries, but you still use the CFF series?" I tapped on the console to bring up the shielding details over the stellar scene that wrapped around Mars.

I looked at the specs for the shielding. Indeed, the ship used the Contained Force Field-152 version 1.2.2 by some company called Grainger Enterprise. I knew little about them, but Starco probably did. "Looks like it. I'm not going to pretend I know much about that. I assume you do?"

Charli smiled again. "I was only a pilot. I mean, the CFF-32 was basically the only thing keeping me from the cold of space. That and the cockpit's shell."

I nodded and continued tapping through the various diagnostic reports. Generally speaking, they looked good. The systems I could check from the cockpit looked to be in working order and working as efficient as they could be for a ship that hadn't been serviced yesterday. Charli moved forward, the hand on the top of my seat being the one that provided the leverage. "These readouts from the engines look rather simplistic don't you think?" she noted, pointing at the three readouts from the cooling system, warp drive, and propulsion system, each showing a white checkmark in their blue box with an asterisk next to them and at the bottom of the box. The note at the bottom essentially said that I would need to actually go to the engine rooms to get detailed readouts.

"They are. The engines our ships use some pretty complex algorithms and quantum mechanics to function properly. With all the other systems it has to check, the ship's computer can't check everything in the engines without a separate test activated from within the engines themselves."

"Shouldn't we check them, leave nothing to Murphy's Law?"

"Ideally yes, but the fact that we got off Mars in one piece should attest to the fact that the engines are fine."

Starco flashed in. "Well there is the warp drive…" he added with a slight tinge of worry. He wasn't wrong to do so, and Charli's concern wasn't out of line. If the warp drive blew or malfunctioned while in use, it could cause a cascading quantum detonation as the atoms in the ship and us literally tore each other apart. Not the ideal sort of death. The odds of that happening were several million to one, but as Murphy's Law states, 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.' Ultimately, I conceded. "Yeah, we should probably check that then."

Charli stood up, proud her suggestion worked.. "Yes, yes we should."

I unclasped the restraints on my seat and stood up, turning around to face the back part of the ship. "Starco," I ordered. "You stay here and keep an eye out for anything hostile."

"Alright, I'll keep an eye out for any murderous Cabal," he affirmed.

"Or anything else," I warned with a finger pointed his direction.

"Or anything else," he repeated.

The Soul was a much larger ship than my ARCADIA but nowhere close to say a Fallen Skiff or a Cabal Warship, but it did outmatch them in terms of firepower. The bow of the Soul consisted of the cockpit with its various instruments, pilot seat, and access to the primary weapon systems, a blue plasma cannon in the front with two omni-directional directed laser cannons otherwise known as omni-directional destroyers or ODDs. They was a common comedy about the Tower whenever Holliday or one of her grunts would start talking about these. Guardians would simply hold up a hand or wave off the dialogue by just saying "Don't tell me the ODDs." However, a ship is more than just guns.

I keep the interior walls a gray color with some of the ship's lime greens mixed in. I installed a couple of racks for weapons on the right side (facing the back of the ship) and storage for repair materials or ammunition on the left. Just past these shelves, racks, and workspace are a pair of doors sitting across the small hallway from each other. The left one led to a small room with a bed for sleeping and a closet with a couple other robes and shader modules I kept in there. The right door was a bathroom, basically a toilet and sink. I never used it for obvious reasons, but it came with the ship, and Arla, with the new addition of Charli should she be in my ship again or anyone else for that matter, may have to use it. Behind them, another pair of doors on opposite sides leading to the engine rooms, bulkheaded with eight-inch thick, lead-lined durasteel doors just like any other piece of metal that touched the engines and any part of the ship that would normally have people in it (with the notable exception of anything behind those doors for access to the machines. After all, pretty much anything that needed to get in there was the Guardian or one of Holliday's grunts, if not the shipwright herself).

I walked over to the storage and started grabbing my pieces of armor other than the bond and robe. "Grab your helmet," I said. "Don't want to accidentally get spaced and asphyxiate."

The proud smile on her face diminished as she did so, pulling her helmet over her head but then immediately opening the faceplate. "Does that happen often?" she asked as she raised that piece of her helmet.

I pulled the gauntlets over my hands. "No, but like you said, 'Murphy's Law.'"

She pointed to my exposed arms. "What about you? Won't you be asphyxiate if you get spaced?"

"I'm an Exo. I technically don't and can't breathe, but to quell your curiosity. You see this armor on my chest?" Charli nodded. "When I put that robe on, buckle it, and put on my helmet, the armor wraps a sort of skin around exposed pieces of me, so no air can escape, even though I don't necessarily need it."

Her eyes looked a bit glazed over. Warlocks were different from other Guardians in several ways. One was their deep connection to the Traveler; another was their ability to warp space-time slightly in order to blink, something they taught a few Hunters to do, and the one that Titans and Hunters vaguely understood, how they survived space and shots "with just that thin robe." There was a reason that Warlocks were the scholars and innovators in the Tower, but not all the others were ignorant or daft. "Whatever floats your boat Max," Charli said after trying to digest the information.

I pulled my helmet over my head. "Please don't call me Max," I said in a serious tone.

"Alright," she submitted. "I take the left door, you take right? Two birds with one stone?"

"Sounds good. I'll tell you what to do as long as you keep the comms open."

"Can do," Charli responded, sliding the faceplate down and walking over to the left door in the back of the ship. I followed promptly behind her but entering the right instead. Both doors clanked loudly for several seconds as they unlocked and clanged similarly to lock back into place. It was pitch black for a second after the door shut, but the lights gradually came on, revealing the complicated machinery that surrounded a central aisle. The engines were duplicates of each other, just mirrored, so I'd be giving Charli the opposite directions of the turns I took.

The data screen was easy enough to find though. A pair of turns after some short walkways, and we were both there. The volume increased with each step as we neared our respective targets. Behind me was a large horizontal shaft, spinning several thousand revolutions every minute. The screen was a glowing turquoise with a black box and text with four tabs running vertically on the left side, each tab a detailed report what was currently going on with that system. The fourth was labeled 'test,' and was simply a single button that activated a diagnostic test.

"Alright," I said. "Now, just hit that button. The room will go dark and quiet for a minute or two while everything resets and starts testing itself."

"Okay," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the noise in the background and the nature of her microphone. "You want me to make my way to the exit after that?"

"No. It's probably best if you just wait for everything to come back online in case something needs fixing or adjusting, but if you feel the need to get out, just use the nightvision or thermal setting on your helmet. Just don't bump into anything that looks important."

"That looks like almost everything in here."

"Exactly," I replied, pressing my button.

I could tell we both pushed our buttons almost simultaneously as the deafening sound of the engines quickly decrescendoed on her side of the comms, and everything fell eerily silent, the lights shutting off a split second after. It was almost as if the entire universe stopped working for several seconds. "Dang," Charli said quietly. "When you said dark and quiet, you meant dark and quiet."

"The ship cuts all power from back here for a couple seconds, meaning nothing's on, even the lights. Then the ship's computer reactivates the engine sub-computer which then reboots everything one by one to look for errors."

"So why don't the lights just come right back on?"

"Like I said, the computer and sub-computer have to check each system and then start adding them to each other. It checks the lights first just before it cuts them but turns them on last because the ship and Guardian can survive without the lights on in the engine room, but neither can survive very long if the power maxes out before the warp drive or thrusters are fully functional."

"A little eerie don't ya think? The lights coming on last, I mean. Almost feels like something's going to jump out at you like some cheap horror movie." It was becoming apparent to me that Charli may have been compensating for a minor fear of the dark.

"A little," I responded. I wasn't afraid of the dark, not by a longshot, but whenever the dark was almost tangible, it was then that I started getting anxious, started fingering a weapon whether I actually had one or not. Multiple times, both as a Guardian and the Allied Earth Army, I'd been surprised by things in the dark. As I stared into the dark, waiting for the lights to come back on, I almost anticipated something glowing in the murk in front of me. Suddenly, I thought I saw something. Something that looked like two light blue dots at the end of the walkway that went deeper into the engines, almost ghost-like.

"So what's the Tower like?" Charli asked, the words scaring me back into reality. She must've heard me jump because she immediately followed the question with, "Everything alright over there?"

I recovered quickly. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just got lost in thought for a moment." I glanced back at where those ghostly lights had been, nothing. "Could you repeat the question?"

"Some things are better experienced," I saw something flicker, like a spark. "Hold on a second."

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Thought I saw a spark."

"That's not good. I'll keep my eyes peeled on this end."

I could tell the tests had started. Different pieces of the engines were restarting every couple of seconds, sounds once again beginning to fill the engine room and bouncing around in the small walkway. Under normal circumstances, I would have appreciated the sound, but I started getting anxious as these sounds came from all over, surrounding me on all sides as I kept watch for the small flash of color and heat of a spark, but after several seconds, one never appeared. Instead, I was left in a tense darkness, my right hand fingering a pistol that was not even there. I could easily summon one if I needed it, all I had to do was give Starco the word, but if I missed, none of us were going to have a good day.

I stayed perfectly still, waiting for a spark or something else out of the ordinary as if the slightest movement would ruin any chance of me seeing whatever was there. More machines clicked on, adding to the overall noise of the engine room. I started to count every second until the lights came on, wishing for them to come on and essentially signaling the end of the part I could actually do something about. All the other tests were internal, checking regulators and various pressures that the Hangar would have to repair. I wondered if the warp drive had gone through its checks yet. It had a unique high squeal that made its activation very recognizable, but I hadn't heard it join the cacophony if it had indeed. Just as my mind turned to it, a ringing sound started piercing the air, slightly buried by the other components of the engine. I contacted Charli to check on her. "How's everything on your end?"

Her voice was calm but contained some obvious hints of discomfort. "Everything looks good over here. No sparks, but this high-pitched whine just started. Can barely hear it over everything else. Is that bad?"

"No. That's just the warp drive powering up. If anything starts vibrating hard enough to toss you on the ground, well, nevermind. By then it's too late to do anything."

"Not concerning at all," Charli said sarcastically. "If you can, try and filter that out of a conversation."

"Why? You're a soldier. You ought to have it straight."

"I get that, but while I do enjoy a good explosion every once in awhile, I'd rather not know when one is going to kill me."

I thought about that for a moment and connected that with her primary job during her pre-Guardian life, though there wasn't too much past it thus far. Being a pilot was often dangerous, and you were usually looking death straight in the face every second. I'd never been a starfighter pilot in a dogfight, but back in the AEA, I had a brief tenure flying a transport to a drop zone while dodging anti-air fire from the Fallen and any technologies they'd captured and repurposed. One mission in particular I hadn't been the only one, there'd been five en route, but I watched three of them get rocked by powerful explosions that would have easily killed any living being quite easily. I could see the logic in her statement, but not every pilot would die in an explosion. I thought about the Vandal that seemingly materialized on top of my transport and tried to cut me out of my seat before the co-pilot unloaded a few rounds into its dark green armor. We hadn't been in space by a long shot, but it was certainly a taste of the perils a pilot could face even while in the air.

The lights were taking their sweet time to come back on. So much so that I seriously pondered just turning on the night vision and leaving. But what if something went wrong…? Nothing was perfect, and things could break much easier than most people would care to admit, especially their manufacturers. There was something to be said about planned obsolescence, but nobody in the business of making money has never purposely described their product as functional for a very limited amount of time other than maybe bullet manufacturers, but those rarely screwed up and never intentionally.

Within the last few seconds, the volume had risen dramatically to the point that the suit enacted a decibel cap, making everything significantly quieter. Most of the remaining sound was a steady whirr originating from the spinning shaft behind me with a couple of grinds mixed in from other sources, meanwhile the whine from the warp drive remained audible, just a little less so.

Now within a realm of something a little quieter, I could notice other parts of my pitch-black surroundings, like the unshakable feeling of my every move being watched, studied. Everything was silent and still besides the various mechanical sounds produced by the engine checking itself.

Still awaiting the light, I took a couple steps forward, and then just as many back. I started pacing in the darkness, carefully feeling about walls for the first few laps to ensure I didn't hit anything besides the glassy smooth surface of the walls.

I walked forward for the second or third time. Four or five minutes had passed since Charli and I began this test, and there was no clear indicator of when everything would be cleared, and that was beginning to make me think something was wrong. I extended each direction in my pacing by a few steps and noticed a pair of blue lights from what was probably a control panel or something nearby. Maybe that would give me some clue as to what was taking so long. The lights could mean that I needed to check something. At this point, I knew I was rationalizing, but I was beginning to grow slightly impatient with this diagnostic. One person doing this took two or three minutes per engine, tops, when everything was working properly, but every passing second brought it closer to doubling that amount.

I approached the panel and attempted to find the edge but only grasped air as I tried to touch where I supposed the corners and edges were. Was it some sort of strange alcove in the engine room? A hallucination perhaps? I flipped on the night vision on my helmet and could make out a faint outline. The two lights were really the only true source of infrared, but their light bled a little more into their surroundings, making the form a little more visible. The panel was a little oddly shaped, mostly shrouded in the murky darkness of the room, but I could make out a small black spaces next to them as well as something solid beneath them. Near the bottom of what I could vaguely see was some sort of shape almost like that of an Exo's mouth, probably a coincidence.

I looked at the lights, staring at them for a moment longer before taking my right arm to touch one of them directly. Suddenly, something seized my arm in mid-air. Icy blue eyes pierced right through the discoloration of my night vision. "We need to talk," the figure said.


	5. Dark

**Chapter 4**

 **Dark**

Suddenly, the figure darted out of the alcove with me in tow, holding tight to the arm. The figure expertly navigated the paths in the engine room despite the darkness, showing some sort of familiarity with it with every left and right turn. I had a pretty good idea who but not why. I tried to resist, pulling with all my might against the hand essentially holding me captive, but for every time I struggled, any sensation in my arm drifted away as the choking grip only tightened. We eventually found a dead end that was quite literally just outside the booster and surrounding void. The lights continued to remain inactive, leaving only the icy blue eyes that wordlessly looked back at me every once in awhile.

After being stopped by the wall between space and ship, the death grip loosened around my forearm. Everything was still pitch black, the timer probably close to 8 or 9 minutes by this point and Starco probably considering whether or not he should cancel the test and contact the Tower. I needed to reach him, but I need to see why _she_ was here first.

The noise would have been unbearable without the sound dampening system in my helmet, but still quite a bit leaked in. The sounds of various machines being tested and put back to work ricocheted off other machines and the metal walls that only amplified itself as it traveled up and down the corridor, collecting more sounds and rattling them off the walls as well. I tried to shout above the noise to get some sort of an answer. "Okay! You've got me Dea! Now what do you want?!" I could scarcely hear my own voice over the sound that bled through the dampening system. Dea shook her head and held up one finger, the slim form barely recognizable through the night vision. Not sure of what she was about to do, I stepped back to give her some space, facing her the entire time with my hands up and palms out to show I wasn't planning on doing anything. I couldn't run or blink because there was nowhere to go that would make sense and not run me back into her. Besides, I had no reason to run from Dea, but I did have a few suspicions as to how she got on my ship, why she's on it in the first place, and why she took me to the very rear of the engine room where if we wanted to talk, we couldn't hear each other anyway.

Unexpectedly, the sound diminished to almost nothing, the grinds and whirrs of machinery melting away almost instantaneously. The decrescendo was negligible at first but became rather effective within a few seconds. Something blinked in my peripherals as I watched Dea fiddle with something at her belt. I looked at our feet and saw two pinpricks of light in the center of a layered cylindrical device. It looked heavy, but I couldn't precisely tell what it did.

Dea must have somehow noticed my confusion behind the helmet because she answered my silent question with, "Discretion field." Her voice was just as I remembered, straight-forward and serious that testified to the amount of experience she had. Each word was clear and crisp without any interference. "Something the Nine recently developed. And this…" I could barely see a small oblong shape clinched vertically between her forefinger and thumb. "...is classified." She shifted the device in her fingers so it was horizontal with the fingers gripping and pushed down until there was an audible pop. At which point, she carefully set it down next to the discretion field generator. The item glowed faintly for a moment before going completely dark. "Dud?" I asked, pointing out the obvious. Once again, she held up a finger.

Just as she did so, the room erupted in a bright light, blinding the infrared sensors and me. I immediately threw a hand over the visor and quickly switched off the night vision, trying to not hurt myself any further with this sudden brightness. "A little bright don't you think?" I commented, my voice doing me zero favors in disguising the discomfort. I waited a few seconds before opening my eyes again and facing that obnoxiously bright light. Things were a bit blurry for a moment after I opened them, but everything came into focus rather quickly. Dea remained quiet.

This rear section of the engine room was bathed in a bright light that was nowhere nearly as harsh as it was with the night vision. A couple feet in front of me, stood a female Exo with white paint, Dea. She wore some sort of blue and white suit beneath a navy blue and gold hooded shawl. At first glance she was unarmed, and while that was of some relief, she could probably had something on her person. However, we ought to be far past that holding each other at gun point by now. After all, she'd helped Arla and me fight through the Black Garden at the expense of her own injury. She'd disappeared, claiming that her path was her own, but now she was here, and that worried me because it was so soon.

"I thought we were past all the cloak and dagger," I grunted, somewhat annoyed, straightening my posture and looking her in the eye. Our eyes met only briefly before she looked away and folded her arms. She sighed. "We are," she stated sternly. "However, you have a guest onboard, so I couldn't just come aboard in the usual way. I assume that's a new Guardian?"

"It is," I replied with a nod. "Now why exactly are you on my ship? I didn't exactly extend an invitation."

"I need to ask you a few questions," she answered, folding her arms.

"So you almost literally dragged me from a diagnostic test to ask me a few questions?"

"Well, I would've waited until it finished, but you found me before then. But yes, I need to ask you a few questions."

I threw my hands up in surrender. "Alright, seeing as I'm back here and you've gone through all this trouble, fire away."

"You sound upset," she commented. I was upset. I had a feeling that we'd ultimately cross paths again, but I didn't think that she would be doing all of this secretive stuff again. It was rather annoying that she couldn't just say what she needed to say, so we could both move on with it. No lying, no deception.

"I'm...it's nothing. What did you need to ask me?" I tried to swallow any signs of being annoyed or frustrated.

Dea crossed her arms and turned her gaze back at me. "What do you know about me?"

I took a step back, floored by the question. Why would she ask me anything like that? She knows who she is, and I only know what she's, which has likely been a mix of inseparable lies and truth. That thought sparked a bit of anger. I didn't demand much of people, but I did have a thing against lying and living the lie. "Why are you asking me this?"

"If you don't mind Maximus, I'll be the one asking the questions from here-on-out."

I decided to assert myself this time. She was not going to start the mind games again, but I tried to keep the inner flames at bay and not let her response stoke them. "No. I need you to answer this one first. Every time you show up, something bad usually happens shortly after. So answer this: is anything bad going to happen?" It was true. So far, she'd been nothing but a harbinger. The Moon, the warehouse, Mars, Venus, the Reef. She'd been there just before everything went south. I'd survived it all somehow with several calls much too close for comfort. I needed to know this for Charli, for Arla, and for myself.

The air was empty of words for several long seconds. "I...I don't know," she ultimately relinquished. "There's a lot I do know, but I honestly can't give you a reason why those things happened…"

I held out a pointed finger. "Cut the crap," I ordered, anger starting to move into my voice. "I can tell that you're going to start being cryptic again. If you're going to be like that, I'm going to kindly ask you to leave once. Anything after that I cannot guarantee will carry that descriptor."

It was her turn to hold her hands up in surrender, but hers was a little less sarcastic than mine. We both knew that it was a fair fight between us, but I'd truly thought we were above fighting each other. "Look, I'm not here to cause you any trouble. You need to calm down and answer the question. It could save your life." Dea walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Please, the last thing we need to do is turn on each other."

I didn't want to admit it, but she was right. She'd led us right into danger, even getting captured by the Cabal at one point, but it was also her that had gotten us out of some sticky situations multiple times. Whatever she had to say, it was probably important and could potentially save my life, even if it put it in danger first. Only time would tell. "Fine," I relented. The lights suddenly came back on.

"How convenient," Dea responded. "So, let's start over. How are you doing Maximus?"

"Okay, I know you did not come out here just to ask me how I'm doing." She glowered at me. "I've been doing fine. Getting lost in the City is leaps and bounds better than getting lost in the Garden. Done a few odd jobs for the Vanguard. Recon, sweeping and clearing an area of Fallen, Cabal, Hive, or even the few Vex that remain. What about you?"

"Very similar, but I'm not necessarily at liberty to discuss details. Just know I've been busy as well. Back to the original question, what do you know about me?"

"Your name is Dea-01..." I recited, stating the few facts I knew from what she's told me and what Uldren used for his mockery during our brief visit. She circled around me in our small space in the engine room. One of the arms crossed about her chest had a clenched fist, obviously holding something. A recording device possibly? "...and you are an Agent of the Nine. In the past you had a tendency of helping Guardians but ultimately got them killed. You have allegedly changed your ways, but proof is scarce. You, along with myself and Arla, went into the Black Garden and slayed the Heart, but you refused to be named in the Vanguard's after action report for reasons still unknown to me."

"And have you told the Vanguard about my existence?"

"No," I stated flatly. As far as I could remember, I'd never told them about Dea in any way, even leaving any mention of her in the debriefing unsaid. She deserved at least part of the credit, but refused it as though to say she'd never existed

"Good, and that's the way it's going to stay."

"So, what do you know about me?"

Dea chortled. "Much more than you'd be comfortable with me knowing."

I was suspicious. I hadn't told her much about myself if anything at all. Yes, we'd spoken, and yes she'd gotten into the Tower before, but surely she would have been spotted by some onlooking Guardian if she dared spy there. The City was another thing that would prove much easier, but it's not like I go there often. "Hmm…" I said. "Part of me believes you, but the other part doesn't."

"Let's just say I've got very credible sources."

Call it a gut feeling, but I could tell that this conversation was coming to a close quickly. "Of course you do. Now, before you disappear into the unknown again, I need to know. Has something happened? Something changed that probably should not have?"

Dea looked at me with her blue eyes, maintaining contact as she spoke. "Maximus, things are always changing, some for the better and some for the worse. We can't afford to let them bother us unless they threaten the things we stand for."

There was something she wasn't telling me. I could tell she was using her cryptic ways to make it seem like there was nothing behind her words, but Dea was always more than a mere first glance. "And why's this relevant?"

Dea's head dipped for a moment, probably thinking of the right way to phrase her words. After a few tense seconds, she said, "The Nine suspect that something big is about to happen. A test against a foe that the City has not yet had to deal with."

"If it's another invasion, I can almost assure you that they won't even get close to the City before the Vanguard sniff out their plot and destroy them. We're not having another incident with the Wall. I mean, Guardians are on watch 24/7 and scout teams are sent into the mountains and forest every six hours to keep ground intel as accurate as possible."

"This isn't something you can outright prepare for."

"What do you mean? If we can't kill it ourselves, I'm sure the Awoken would help us with some convincing, and the Nine would surely lend some sort of a hand." I was sure we wouldn't need the help with as advanced, trained, and numerous as our ranks were. A single Guardian was a rough equivalent to a few dozen Fallen at the very least, even one in Charli's condition and with so little experience.

Dea though again. "I'm not sure either will be able to help in any way."

"And why would that be?"

"The Nine can be rather fickle. They sometimes question sending Xur to the City to sell his wares. They say it makes the Tower look too dependent on their weaponry rather than the items the foundries produce."

"Well, I can name plenty of Exotic-class weapons the City has produced…"

Dea interrupted me. "...Using tech modified from Exotics developed by the Nine and its assets."

"That's probably true," I said. "But what about the Awoken. Why wouldn't they help?"

"You haven't heard?" Dea asked, surprised. "The House of Wolves mounted a full-scale rebellion led by some Kell who's in way over his head."

Arla had told me about how the Awoken had taken the Wolves as protectorates a long time ago. She'd told me about how they'd rebelled a couple times but ultimately granted amnesty because they were corrupted by the Servitors that had since been terminated. This revolt sounded different, now led by an actual person many of the Fallen underlings actually looked up to. I had no doubt that very few of them would go against such a powerful being's orders, even if it meant abandoning their homes and sacrificing their lives to free themselves of those they now see as ruthless oppressors. My mind drifted back to the phone call I'd seen Arla dealing with that one time a few months ago. She'd said something about how she wouldn't come back. She deserted their army and became a Guardian after dying in the ensuing chase. If they were that desperate, I could only imagine which way the fight was going. "I haven't. Do you know why haven't they reached out to the Tower then? I'm sure the Vanguard would jump at the chance to connect the City to the Reef." I asked, disregarding the possibility Dea wouldn't know.

"I have a few ideas, but they're just theories at this point. My guess is that their perverse vision of honor has held them back from asking for help. They probably think that they can take on them on and win easily."

"How long has this revolt been going?"

"A little over five months or so," Dea responded. "It's been bloody from what I've heard, the slave killing the master and vice versa. It hasn't looked very good for that Variks character they keep around, so I anticipate that he's on a short leash."

"Who exactly is Variks?"

"Variks is a House of Judgment scribe, historian, you name it because he's pretty much the last of that House, period. He serves the Queen of the Awoken as an advisor, and now as an information source on all things Fallen." The sound of a door opening bounced off the machinery and cut audibly cut through the discretion field. Dea's head snapped down the hallway. "I have to go," she said in a sudden rush. She stooped down to grab the redundant light source and generator.

"What about your other ideas?" I protested. Dea paused for a second with her hand on the switch of the generator. She kept it on just long enough to finish her statement. Her voice came out more like a warning. "No time. Keep your eyes peeled, never accept things for the way they are." There was a flash of light, and she was gone, vanishing instantaneously like a phantom, no evidence of her ever being there except in my memory.

Charli turned the corner quickly but carefully so as not to crash into anything. She stopped and steadied herself when I turned around. "Everything alright?" she asked, sounding a bit worried. "Starco and I tried to contact you several times."

"Yeah, yeah. Just got caught up in a repair," I lied. "I found what was making those sparks. Loose wire tapping against the metal." I didn't like lying to people, but I couldn't let Charli know about people like Dea because she was nowhere near as acclimated to this world as she would readily admit. There were several things she didn't know and were probably better off not even having an inkling they existed.

"Well, why didn't you respond then?" her voice said in an accusatory tone.

"I was listening to music. Guess the machinery and music drowned out your transmission." I knew I was taking full advantage of her not knowing how a Guardian's suit of armor worked, but it was necessary.

Charli pondered this explanation for a moment. I could only hope she didn't sense and spoil my lie. Finally, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "Just try and turn it down next time I guess."

I was relieved she didn't pick up the lie or didn't want to call out the one person who knew she was alive. "Will do," I responded with a nod. I clapped my gloved hands together. "Ready to get this show on the road? Start a new life?"

Something in her changed. The abundant confidence in her seemingly collapsed. Her straight posture slumped a little almost as if someone, me, cast a heavy burden upon her back. Charli remained silent for a moment, turning her head away from me and staring at a blinking green light ingrained into a the metal wall. The dented and visorless helmet she wore may have hidden her face, but it was like she could see her past behind her like it was a physical entity occupying that walk back to her seat. It was almost as if she were in some sort of human limbo that I probably could never understand, caught between embracing this new present and leaving her past far behind her as time did, or choosing to linger in that past just a little while longer. If that was indeed what was going through her head, which I was fairly certain was the case, I would tell her it was good to remember the past, but in our line of work, the line of work she was about to bear for the rest of her life, whether that be only the next few days or several decades, we had to put the present in front of our past to protect the lives we're responsible for and ensure safety for the ones that are to come.

Both of us were in a position to countless others who continued to be Guardians or ones that had been long ago. We were soldiers, so the choice should have been elementary, but during those beginning weeks of my newfound life, my past popped up in surprise places and left me vulnerable to those past wounds. These next couple of days would prove bittersweet to a new Guardian as their distant past still feels so fresh in memory.

I walked up to her, slightly apologetic for causing those feelings to suddenly rise to the surface regardless of if she'd previously suppressed them or not, and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "I think I know what's going through your mind. It's tough knowing that everything and everyone you know and loved is almost certainly dead by now, but that's why you gain a new one here. One that will continue with you indefinitely no matter what. Take your time. I'll be in the cockpit when you're ready to go." I took a couple steps forward before I my right shoulder jerked backwards, an armored glove with a death grip clutching it. "Maximus," Charli said earnestly. "Do you have any regrets from your past life?"

"I wish I could've saved more people," I said. I started walking again and stopped when I reached the control panel. It only took a few swipes and looks at a couple screens to see that the diagnostic had been completely successful, no glitches anywhere which made the delay in the lighting system all the more confusing. Dea likely had something to do with that, but she was gone and probably wouldn't tell me anyways.

I exited the engine room and started taking off the pieces of armor I'd put on to go inside, placing them back where they'd been beforehand. Opening a comms link with the Tower, I sat down and waited for Charli to come out of the engine room. She'd probably do so very soon, but I needed to take the time to contact Ikora and tell her about Charli, so they can arrange a test as soon as we get there, a courtesy that I was not given upon my arrival. Instead, I was given a night off and a nightmare to sort through while I was quite literally carried to the Speaker. While we waited the call to go through, Starco floated over by me and started talking. "Everything go alright in there? Took you awhile." His paint job, intentionally made to look like the night sky, almost blended in with the void outside the cockpit.

"Yeah. Lights took forever to come back on, and you know me. Have to stick around in case I can do any fixes or at least patch something long enough to get back to the Tower."

"You do realize how dangerous that is right? Y'know, repairs in space?"

"Relax, didn't have to do anything this time around, so we didn't have to fully shut down the ship."

"So then what really took you so long. The sub-computer sent a notification when the lights came on and signaled the end of the test. After that, you were in there a few more minutes while Charli came right out."

I didn't want to have this conversation at the moment, but the Tower was taking forever to pick up. "Fine, you caught me. There was a small repair that I had to make," I lied. This could not be a habit.

"Okay, we both know that isn't true. You can't hide anything from your Ghost."

"So shouldn't you know exactly what happened then?"

"Again, you and I both know that's not exactly how it works. Your comms signal was being interfered with, and that was most certainly not the engine." Something seemed to click inside him. "Please don't tell me it was…" he pleaded gravely.

I nodded. "I don't know how she got there, but she was back there."

"Well, what did she say?"

"What did who say?" a new voice asked sternly. I quickly looked up to the screen and saw Ikora's dark-skinned face. I hadn't noticed anyone pick up; I just hoped she hadn't heard anything from the beginning. Ikora had a very serious nature to her, but that was solely because of the things she'd seen while she was on various missions. I'd read a few of her after action reports and saw that she'd taken several daring operations that had killed several of her teammates but also gained her a reputation as one of the most capable Guardians alive. Her hair was kept short and expression stone-faced, showing experience and limited emotion. Right now however, dark spots ringed beneath bloodshot eyes that screamed for sleep. I had no idea if I'd just woken her up, or she was just that sleep deprived.

"Oh, nobody. Just talking about a friend of ours back in the City," I said with a laugh. "We were just recounting something funny that happened recently on one of our recent trips to the City."

"Fine then," Ikora said flatly. "I presume your mission went well."

"It did. The information the Ghost gave us was correct, but we did a little reconnaissance per Zavala's request. We found a Cabal base near Olympus Mons. Starco will send you the details when we return. We weren't able to get in before the Cabal found us, but chances are it's fairly large and heavily defended because of the firepower we ran into."

"What kind of firepower?" Ikora asked.

"They sent a tank after us."

"Is the new Guardian alright? I don't see him or her behind you."

"It's a she ma'am. We did a quick diagnostic test because the ship took some fire when it came in for an airstrike. We just wanted to make sure nothing catastrophic would happen while we returned. Charli's just looking over a few things before we get underway."

Starco whispered, "Let's try not to tempt fate, please."

"I look forward to meeting this Charli. What's your first impression of her?"

"She's a little disoriented…" I began.

"That's understandable. You sure were on your first full day," the Warlock Vanguard interrupted. I waited a second before I continued to ensure she was done.

When nothing came out, I continued. "As I was saying, Charli told me she did a little bit of everything while she was a part of the Martian Federation Navy. She said she was primarily a pilot, so I trust she knows her way around these complex engines far better than I do. However, her capabilities on the ground are above what I exceeded, most notably in hand to hand. I will say that the armor she was given is pretty much toast at this point. I could repair the damage to the helmet, but it frankly is not worth the time and effort. You will be doing the test when we get there correct?"

"We certainly can. Not sure if the Speaker and Zavala have gone off to bed yet, but we can certainly check. We'll have an analyst do a full debrief the two of you during the test." I looked behind Ikora and could make out the window behind the Vanguard and odd statue. It was dark out, so it may have to be delayed until tomorrow.

"Understood, but with all due respect Ikora, I'd like to be present for the test. I know it's a Vanguard-Speaker sort of arrangement, but I'm rather curious. Besides, I'm sure Starco can do the enough talking for the both of us. After all, he is a Ghost who records basically everything."

Ikora's face fidgeted a little, the straight face she usually kept breaking twitching into a momentary yet noticeable half-smile. "So you'll give us the footage from the Black Garden?" she asked. I remained silent. I couldn't let her or anyone in the Vanguard see the record of that because of Dea's presence. Until she gave me explicit permission to let her be known to the Vanguard, I wasn't going to allow them to see any record that may link to my involvement with her. "I see you're still reluctant about sharing that information. Since that's the case, I'm going to have to deny your request because we'll need to get your word as well. To be honest Maximus, we're beginning to think you're hiding something from us."

I needed to diffuse this quickly. "Unfortunately, I think some things are best left unseen," I responded.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure we could handle it, but we're not going to force you to give up the footage. Not yet at least." She motioned to someone off screen and told him to see if the Speaker was in his observatory and another to find Zavala. There was the shuffle of footsteps in the background as the two people set about their assigned tasks. "Is there anything else Maximus?"

I shifted in my seat. "Uh yeah. One last thing. Kind of random, but do you know anything about how today's baseball game is going?" Ikora would know as she harbored an affinity for the ancient sport and one of the things that both bonded and divided the City as its many teams took on each other frequently. She was one of the main reasons the Tower actually had a team, the Sunsingers, aptly named after one of the Warlock subclasses.

Ikora turned away for a second and tapped something into a datapad that she always had somewhere close by, though it was offscreen this time around. "It seems as though the game just got underway, scoreless and hitless at the bottom of the second. Apparently Arla is pitching tonight. Three strikeouts in two innings. Didn't know she could do that." I didn't feel like breaking the news to Ikora, but she beat Cayde in a knife throwing contest, so throwing a baseball was a piece of cake compared to that. Generally speaking though, she was at third base or short stop.

"Didn't know that either. What about Heksis?"

Something glinted in Ikora's eye. Pride perhaps? I couldn't tell. "Heksis? He's playing catcher tonight. Never knew he had a knack for baseball until Arla showed him the game." She set the datapad down and turned her eyes back to me. "Just got word that we'll conduct the test immediately. We await your arrival," she said before cutting off the communications link.

Charli came out a few minutes later calm and collected, her composure regained after I accidentally brought up or brought back a few thoughts she would ultimately have to contend with over the next couple days perhaps even a week. "Ready to go?" I asked.

"Yeah," she responded, taking off her helmet and taking a seat. "New life, new adventure. Let's get it underway."

I turned my head over the top of the chair. "Good to see the enthusiasm," I said. I pushed a few buttons and primed the warp drive with our destination input. The engine's sound increased in volume and pitch until it became only a faint noise in the background. I gave the engines a few more seconds before pulling back the thrust and pressing the button on the side of its horizontal handle.

The ship launched forward, suddenly being cloaked by a tunnel of blues, greens, yellows, and oranges as we sped through space-time and towards Earth.


	6. Motive

**Chapter 5**

 **Motive**

 **Guardian Charli Hendricks**

Maximus' ship lurched forward violently as they exited the warp space, momentum throwing both Charli and the Exo in the pilot's chair against their restraints. The sharp noise of the warp drive leaked through the metal in the walls as it wound down. In front of her was an orb of blue with large masses of green and brown, mostly brown, cutting through. It had been years before her death that Charli had been able to go to Earth, a short-lived vacation for her brother's wedding before she had to return to the MFN and continue fighting to keep the Fallen and Cabal out of their cities.

As she had previously seen, the Cabal were still around, but she half-wondered if the Fallen had survived all those years she had not. All of them addicted junkies scavenging whatever they could find to fight off the Humans, Awoken, and Exo that inhabited areas they sought to pillage. Charli thought back to her friends' final moments aboard the ship as they died at the hands of the Fallen. While they had done stuff on the ground, none of them had ever given any thought to dying at the hands of the Fallen on their own ship, their home. If those murderous pirates were still around, Charli couldn't think of any punishment that would be too much for them. Death was always an option, but it almost seemed too good for them by this point.

Within minutes, the ship was breaking through the atmosphere, friction leaking a little heat past the metal plating before Maximus pulled up on the stick and the ship broke through the cloud bank, her vision out the front becoming noticeably clearer. A huge city stretched out below her, the lights almost making it appear alive despite the dead of night. Dark, jagged shapes appeared distantly on the sides of a white, dilapidated sphere, the city lights casting a white-orange glow on its bottom. Buildings of varying sizes and complexities dotted the ground below them, a few craft much smaller than theirs flying around in various directions. Seeing this made her think of Freehold and a few other Martian cities before the Cabal eventually busted through their barriers, the Vex came from underground, and the Fallen just an outlier on the west hemisphere.

Freehold, so named after the city located very close by, had been one of her favorite bases to be assigned if one could have a favorite military installation. It had been well-funded with a variety of craft at her disposal as well as state-of-the-art simulators to ensure her skills didn't rust, pilots being required to log in at least an hour a day if they were not actively engaged in some sort of actual flying.

Charli wondered if her abilities as a pilot still remained despite all the time she had been dead. She looked down at her hands and clenched them into fists a few times before Maximus banked the ship and swerved around the Traveler. The air felt different, more alive than she remembered it feeling. Was it just because of the Earth? Because she was near the Traveler? Her new life that was just at its dawn? A sort of invisible yet tangible light seemed to surround her like some mysterious aura or halo that she had no idea existed.

Maximus finished his turn and leveled out, heading directly for a large building that towered high over the City with black mountains that stood even taller piercing the sky behind it. Wanting to get a better look, Charli unbuckled the restraints and walked up to the front viewport, putting a hand on the headrest of the pilot's seat once she got there. The blue Exo turned his head only for a second before turning back to the view. "Welcome to your new home Charli," he said. "This is the last safe City pretty much anywhere. Not a bad place to live, but it still has its kinks, crooks, and blemishes. Couple scars here and there, but you've come at a good time."

"Why is that?" Charli asked earnestly.

"Because you won't have to deal with the things I did," Maximus responded. Charli sensed that she probably should not press into the matter, so she kept her mouth shut. Maximus pointed a finger at the large building they were flying towards. "That's the Tower, the place where the Guardians live, socialize, and coordinate their efforts before heading off into space." Despite their distance, Charli could make out three distinct areas, one a generally open area in the middle. On its left was a tunneled off area that seemed to lead to some sort of observatory with a huge opening. The right was home to a much larger and wider hole that a ship flew into, landing just as soft as it was quick. "That area to the right," Charli began. "I'm guessing that's some sort of hangar?"

Maximus looked up at her with his yellow eyes. "Nice guess," he said, turning back to flying. "That middle area is a sort of commons area we refer to as the Plaza, and then the other side is called Tower North. That's where the Speaker has his observatory with probably the best view of the City you'll get. Postcard beautiful. Not much competition though because everywhere else is wartorn or a current battlefield."

"I'm sure there are some other places that have their charm," Charli said optimistically. "I mean, centuries ago, normal people didn't get to go to space everyday. It was reserved for specialized individuals with a certain goal in mind."

"Well, I guess if you can get past the stench of the Fallen and marks of the Vex, Venus has some pretty good spots too, but here your life shouldn't be in as much danger if any at all." They were drawing near to the Tower. Three figures cloaked in shadow stood in a line at the center of the plaza area. Charli couldn't make out too much detail from their height, distance, and lack of light, but she assumed they were just Guardians enjoying the night air.

Charli let silence prevail for a few seconds before opening her mouth again. "So what happens now?" For the first time in a very long time, she didn't really have a clear direction for her life, especially now that almost everything she remembered from back then is long gone or exactly the same, the only two extremes that seemed to exist in a world she was trying to piece together. Just when she thought that she had figured out the world, figured out that war was a constant threat or reality no matter what steps people took, it was like someone took that puzzle and scattered the pieces again. A few clusters stayed together, like the constant of war, but now she had to fill in the gaps and piece together what all had happened whilst she had been dead.

"You see those three figures down there?" Maximus asked. Charli nodded her affirmation. "That's the Vanguard. They'll take you to the Speaker where they'll test your aptitude for being a Guardian, essentially giving you a class as soon as possible, so you can start your new journey."

"Classes?" Charli was thoroughly confused by this. She was accustomed to militarial classes and assignments, but these, she inferred, were very different.

They were rather close to the Tower, so any explanation would have to be quick, or they'd run the risk of looking a little awkward as they just hovered above this Plaza. "I'll keep it brief. Titans are like advanced infantry. Hunters are...an interesting hybrid of Titans, some stealth tech, a hood, and some knife tricks. I'm a Warlock. I bend space-time a little. You'll get specifics later if you ask."

"I think I get it," she lied. Just as she thought, she had no clue what he was talking about. "So are you going to be there when they do the test?" She felt a little awkward asking the question as they were essentially strangers, but he was the only person she knew at this point.

"They won't let me," he said frankly with a hint of disappointment. "They need a debrief, but it should be fine. Believe you me, it can't possibly go worse than mine." He set the ship into a hover mode and opened the ramp. Three figures: a bald Awoken in heavy armor, someone in a hood with a glowing mouth, presumably an Exo, and a dark-skinned human dressed in robes similar to Maximus' in style but not in color, stood on the ground below the ship as they awaited both of the Guardians aboard. "Let's get moving. Your new life awaits." The Warlock stood up and started putting on his armor and robe minus the helmet which he held upside-down at his side. Charli did similar, holding her helmet with the dent facing her leg. Maximus walked calmly to the edge of the ramp with his weapons on his back and leapt off the edge, landing solidly on the ground.

Charli hesitated before getting off. Something cemented her feet to the metal floor, paralyzed and unable to move. She watched Maximus shake hands with each of the figures and then point to the ramp. He moved a couple steps to the side and motioned her to come down. A sudden pit began to form in her stomach, nerves creeping in. Charli steeled herself and walked to the edge of the ramp, her free hand gripping one of the hydraulic beams that controlled the ramp. The ship's engines roared in her ear, but it was an oddly calming sound, the different yet familiar heat just as soothing. Maximus waved his hand again to encourage her to come down. After lingering several long seconds, Charli leapt off the edge and landed just as solid as Maximus did, hearing the thud of her boots on concrete as she did.

Charli straightened her posture and looked over the three figures standing in front of her as Maximus stood off to her left facing the figures as well. The Awoken she'd seen from the ship earlier extended an armored hand. She quickly extended hers as well, both hands gripping the other in a firm handshake. "Miss Hendricks," the Awoken said in a caring yet stern voice. "Welcome to the Tower." He let go of her hand, and she dropped hers by her side once again. "I'm Commander Zavala, the Titan Vanguard. This is Cayde…" he gestured to a sky blue Exo with equally light blue eyes. "...and Ikora Rey." Ikora was a dark-skinned woman that was at least a couple inches shorter than her compatriots, but her presence exuded power. "Nice to meet ya," the Exo said as he shook Charli's hand, the moon momentarily illuminating a metal horn that poked out of his hood. Ikora shook hands as well but remained silent and then clasped both of her hands in front of her. Zavala and Ikora looked exhausted, as if they'd been up all night.

Cayde seemed to be just fine, if not better, and gestured to his right. "Maximus, there's someone in the Vanguard meeting room to debrief you. We'll all join you two shortly. Now Miss Hendricks, if you'll just follow us, we have a small test for you." Maximus was gone before she could say anything to him. Cayde wrapped an arm around her shoulder while Ikora walked to her left and Zavala dead ahead, leading her up some stairs and into a dimly lit tunnel area.

Once they were well into the tunnel. Cayde spoke again, "I don't mean to sound indelicate, but what did you do in your past life?"

"Cayde," Ikora warned.

"What?" he asked indignantly. "I think it's important." He looked back at Charli. "So as you were saying…"

Charli was a little uncomfortable, not that she'd been too comfortable with Maximus, but more so than now. "I...I was a pilot."

"You mean like pirate, plunder sort of pilot?"

"Military," Charli responded briefly. "Got shot down while fighting off the Fallen over Mars."

"Yeah well, don't worry about those smelly, four-armed freaks. They don't run Mars; the Cabal do."

Zavala looked over his shoulder just as the group approached another set of stairs, the exit to the tunnel apparently just around the corner. "I thought you said you weren't going to be indelicate."

Cayde removed his arm from Charli and shrugged. "I mean we were going to find out eventually weren't we? Whether it was now or later. Just trying to get a feel for this new Hunter."

"You don't know that yet," Ikora snapped probably out of exhaustion. "That's for the Traveler to decide."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Sorry for being optimistic."

A half smile crept onto Ikora's stern face. "You mistake the meaning of optimistic Cayde. You of all people should know that the best place for someone like her would be with the Warlocks. After all, she did meet with one of the most successful Guardians we have here."

"You're never going to let go of that are you?"

"It's not every day you have someone slay the Black Garden's heart."

"Yeah, well don't forget I had someone in there as well. The only one that didn't have someone there was good ol' Zavala here. Isn't that right buddy?"

Charli saw the big man flinch a little bit, as if Cayde has stabbed him in the back with the knife he carried at his belt. "For all we know, neither of your Guardians actually destroyed it," Zavala said through gritted teeth. This seemed to be a rather touchy subject for him. "Maximus and Arla won't open up about it, so why do you two automatically assume that it is indeed dead?"

"Well for one, we already celebrated its destruction," Cayde responded. "And not long before those two came back, there was a massive resurgence in Light levels across the system. I bet you even the heartless Awoken could feel it."

"They're not heartless," Zavala snapped. "Just hard-headed."

"Would love to see how hard their heads are when a bullet goes through them," Cayde snided.

"You did not just say that!" Ikora exclaimed quietly. A Titan dressed in green and gold armor walked by, ignoring the Vanguard surrounding Charli. Ikora continued when she was sure that Titan wasn't in earshot. "We have no quarrel with the Awoken…"

"However we don't know if they have any with us. Maximus and Arla went their a couple times, and since then, they've blocked all communication with us."

"You don't think they struck some sort of deal do you?" Zavala asked.

"I know just as much as you do," Ikora affirmed.

Cayde interrupted the discussion once again. "Not to change the subject but, do either of you know when the Speaker's going to let us back out in the field? I've been dying to get out of the City for the last couple of months."

All of them stopped abruptly, and Zavala turned around quickly, pointing a finger directly at Cayde. "Field work is no longer part of your job description Cayde. You're going to have to accept that eventually."

"But politics are so boring. I miss living on the edge of a blade, not knowing if I'd come back or not. I know you Zavala; you miss that life at least a little bit."

Charli was beginning to wonder whether or not she should intervene. This discussion definitely did not sound like a standard part of the welcoming committee, but somehow it had gotten to this point, perhaps too far to turn around. Figuring that these three were likely the Tower's equivalent to Commanding Officers, she decided to keep her mouth shut for the time being. She simply did not know enough about them to make a fair judgement. Though if Maximus was right in saying that they essentially soldiers, that would mean someone had to take care of the politics because they were always there. Charli was leaning more towards Cayde in this argument but continued listening to gather as much information as she could about these three leaders despite getting closer to their destination step by step.

"Politics are how we keep the City safe. Even if that means we have to do it from a distance…"

"Which is not how it should be."

"But that's how it is. This discussion is over Cayde." Zavala turned around and started walking. The early morning air felt all the more tense, and that did not help the nerves Charli still felt. The Ikora followed after him not too long after, leaving Cayde and Charli alone for a few seconds. The Exo had his hands on his hips and was simply watching them exit the tunnel and disappear into a large building.

"Sorry you had to hear that," he apologized. "Zavala's got a stick up his butt. He's right that we, the Vanguard, are basically diplomats with guns, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be allowed to kick some butt every now and again. I honestly don't see how I've gotten along with that man for the last couple years. Ah, but you're not here to listen to my gripes. Let's get you tested."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The Speaker said very little once they climbed the steps to his observatory. Ikora did most of the explaining just as the dawn of a new day struck. Charli found this rather fitting for her circumstances but kept that to herself. Essentially, she was going to hold out her arm, and the Speaker was going to touch it. An odd test, but she complied.

The Speaker spoke with an inspiring but blunt tone. "This shouldn't hurt, but it is necessary if it does. Are you ready Guardian?" Something in those words said that he was sleep deprived and stressed out despite Maximus' apparent success, something that should have only alleviated them, but some people are always moving to the next thing Charli supposed, never focusing too much on the past.

Charli took a moment to think. Was she ready? Was she willing to accept what was going to be the last part of her life? In her opinion, that was quite a load to bear in such a single instant. From what little she knew, it sounded like her job was going to be the exact same thing she'd been doing in the MFN, shooting at things and protecting those that she loved. Except, those that she loved were long dead, their descendents either here or slaughtered, perhaps they never even existed. It made her feel empty. She really had no real reason to fight given the circumstances, and fighting in a war leads to many lives being taken. And taking lives for no reason was murder.

Charli hadn't realized it, but her heart was racing, her hands were clammy and shaking, and their was a ragged quality to her breathing. Pain shot through her head as she struggled with such a choice that seemed so elementary on the surface. Seconds of drawn out time wasted away without a word said or deed done. She opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue was clumsy, mouth like a desert, arms frozen.

A breeze wafted through the large opening in the observatory, bringing with it a bitter smell that soon turned remarkably pleasurable, like the smoke of a burnt out engine giving way to the wafts emanating from the greenhouses in each long-destroyed base. A thought crossed Charli's mind, a motive. A reason to kill and risk being killed. Her tongue and heart returned to their normal, or at least what she could consider normal, states. "Before I sign on, are the Fallen still around?" Her voice sounded like nothing it had been since she'd taken the gun from Maximus on Mars: Lieutenant Charli Hendricks. A fire glinted in her eye.

"Odd question to ask," the Speaker commented. "But yes, they are still around."

"Good," Charli stated, thrusting her right arm out. "Let's get this started then."

"Alright then. When I touch your arm, your suit armor will read what the Traveler has designated you, your calling for your tenure here, and manifest it in one of three ways." He held up the appropriate amount of fingers for each one. "First, arcs of energy will move up your arm. This will designate you a Titan. Second, your arm will ignite, deeming you a Hunter. Or third, an orb of energy will gather in the palm of your hand. That would make you a Warlock. For the sake of the third possibility, I must ask you turn turn your arm palm out." Charli did so. "Are you ready?" the Speaker reiterated. Charli glanced at each of the Vanguard. Zavala simply stood there with a poker face that was compromised by the sweat beginning to form at the top of his head. Cayde stood motionless with his arms folded confidently across his chest. Ikora was similarly expressionless with her arms clasped in front of her but staring intently at the palm of Charli's hand, almost as if she were willing an orb to appear.

"I am," Charli stated with a nod. Her eyes turned to her arm as the Speaker approached the palm of her hand with two fingers, his index and middle, extended and clenched side by side. Charli thought she could see an almost transparent glow around them, like some sort of energy field, The fingers pressed down on her open palm for several seconds before he removed them.

Seconds ticked by and turned into a minute of silence. Nothing happened. The Speaker repeated his two finger approach, pressing harder and holding them there for longer before retracting them. All the while, each member of the Vanguard stayed absolutely still and silent, as if the slightest movement would skew the results. After another minute of no results, eyebrows and confused glances started getting traded among the Vanguard, none of them knowing what to do.

The Speaker stepped forward for a third attempt or perhaps to tell her the Ghost had been wrong. Either way, just as he stepped forward, Charli saw a small flicker of blue twitch between her ring finger and pinky. This was shortly followed by more bolts lacing the gaps between her fingers, none of them visible from where the Vanguard stood. The Speaker stopped after that one step when he saw Charli clench her fist. He didn't know what was happening either in truth, but her arm had fallen asleep, and she was just trying to get some blood flow back into it.

Suddenly, sparks traced the outline of her hand, wrapping themselves around it before exploding up her arm. Blue streaks of light streaked up her arm, spreading up to her shoulder, across her torso to her legs and other arm, and then to her head. Unbearable pain ignited her nerves. The confidence she had just felt shattered like glass as the pain made her wish it would stop, whether it be an abrupt ending, her passing out, or the embrace of death. No such solace came though. She could see the Vanguard's mouths moving, no doubt wanting to stop what was happening, but the Speaker held out an arm to stop them.

Seconds felt like minutes as the pain refused to cease, but it steadily began to dull. Charli couldn't tell if she was simply getting used to the pain or if it was actually going away. Regardless, the pain lulled and the arcs continued to streak her arms, torso, and legs, and she guessed that they still ran across her face as well. She slowly clenched her hands in to fists, feeling the power the electricity gave her, relishing it as the pain slowly disappeared. Then she quickly closed a fist, and the arcs abruptly cut off. She clenched a fist again, and they started streaking up her arm again but cutting off at the shoulder this time. Her composure had recovered somewhat, her confidence equally regained, but now she could feel this newfound power coursing through her body like the electricity she summon on her arm.

Charli looked up at the Vanguard, their faces shocked.


	7. Deception

Chapter 6

Deception

Voidwalker Maximus

I answered each of the questions as well as I could, Starco showing the footage on the gray wall in front of us to support what I said. I didn't know the Guardian asking me the questions and dissecting my story and the footage; heck, I probably wouldn't have even thought he was a Guardian with just how scrawny he was if he wasn't wearing a ridiculous orange flight suit with a large version of the Vanguard logo emblazoned across the front and smaller ones decorating the sleeves. He held a datapad to his young face that only seemed to highlight the Mongolian features of his face, like the ancient Genghis Khan's least favorite child.

At long last, the debrief ended. The man removed the projector from Starco's shell essentially left us to our own devices with one condition: we could not quite leave the room. I asked multiple times, but received the same answer, "There is more to be done Maximus." A cookie cutter response that irked me the few times I've been debriefed since getting out of the Garden. I didn't feel like I was entitled to a little more power and respect since getting out of there, but I did wish the Vanguard would let me toss my weight around a little more on my own. Most Guardians got to pick their own fireteams and activities, but my fireteam was assigned as well as most of my missions. Then again, I was a soldier back then just as I am now, so I'm not about to complain. That and Arla is nowhere near a bad teammate to have. I was just nervous about her involvement with that Heksis guy. There was something shifty about him, especially the fact that I'd never seen him without his helmet. For all I knew, it was a vanity thing; he could have a nasty scar that ran along his face, and I get that because I know a few people who are that way, but each of them had shown me before replacing their helmet and rarely taking it off in my presence since.

I had a feeling, a prediction, about why the Vanguard wanted to keep me here for now. One that I could almost guarantee I was correct on, but I was going to wait and see if I was correct before I actually put all my metaphorical eggs in a symbolic basket.

Suddenly the door hissed open. I spun around in my chair expecting to see Charli but saw a different friendly face. "Nice to see you could join us Miss Nublier," the man with the data pad said without looking up. Arla nodded as she walked in, her face still glistening with sweat from the game she no doubt just left. Her green eyes, however, still had that limitless glow to them. "How'd it go?" I asked, referring to her game.

The smile she had on her face broadened so that her front teeth began to show just a little. "Did a little pitching tonight."

"I heard," I responded.

"Yep. Six and two-thirds innings with two hits and eight strikeouts. Was going to go more, but Shaxx told me that the Vanguard had requested my presence." Arla was beaming as she talked about her numbers. If there was one thing she loved almost as much as being a Guardian, it was baseball. I liked it well enough but nowhere near as much as her.

"That's partially my fault," I said with a raised hand.

"No. No need to apologize. My arm was getting tired anyways. Layma was actually my replacement surprisingly enough. She's a pretty decent pitcher, and I think you ought to give it a try sometime. "

"Maybe when I've got a few days off,"

Arla rolled her eyes. "That's your problem," she said with a chuckle. "As long as you keep coming back to the Vanguard asking for another assignment, they'll keep giving you work. Don't know if you've realized this yet, but we're kind of famous."

I sighed. "Yeah, I'm aware. Have you seen the new ads?" I was referring to the promotional covers each of three main foundries asked Arla and me to do. We ultimately decided that we'd each endorse one apiece and determine the third eventually. Arla had done Hakke because they offered to let her and Heksis build some custom weapon they'd been working on. I went on with Omolon because...well I didn't really have a reason for once. Just kind of picked them on a whim. Nice people, really devoted to their work. That left Suros as the odd company left out, and they kept calling because they hadn't heard back from us in a while. I'd told them each time that we were rather busy and would come in sometime in the near future, just be patient. Frankly though, I didn't want us to have conflicting brand endorsements because that seemed traitorous in my book, and no doubt Omolon would take notice. However, if my hunch was correct, Suros would have their cover sooner rather than later.

Arla sat back in her chair and folded her arms. "I think my stuff for Hakke turned out rather well. Saw your shots with Omolon too. Not bad Max."

"I still don't like being called that," I said.

"Well, I think you're going to have to get used to it. After all, it rolls off the tongue much easier than Maximus." She shifted in her seat. "So on a different note, why am I here exactly? I love hanging around you and being a Guardian, but I'm kind of beat after that game."

"You're preaching to the choir," I stated, looking her in the eyes. "Had to face a tank today."

"That's right!" she smacked her forehead the with heel of her hand. "Here I am celebrating pitching when you went out there and risked your life for the billionth time. How'd it go?"

"Well, we stumbled upon a Cabal base and promptly got the aforementioned tank sent after us…"

"Wait, who's we? You found that new Guardian?" Her voice held some feigned enthusiasm, and I could tell.

"I did. Her name's Charli Hendricks, a former pilot for the MFN. Nice girl, auburn hair and looks very natural on the ground. Can only imagine how good she is piloting a spacecraft."

"Oh," Arla said simply.

I fidgeted in my seat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just that I think I have an idea what your theory is now."

"Which would be?" I prodded.

"You think the Vanguard are going to assign her to us." I nodded in response. Arla threw her head back, her sweaty, brown hair dangling over the back of the chair before she came back up. "Naturally."

"Is that a problem?" a new voice asked from the back of the room. Arla and I immediately turned to see Ikora Rey standing at the entrance to the room.

"Is what a problem?" I asked innocently.

"Charli becoming your responsibility for the time being. You two took a stroll through the Black Garden," she gave me a stink eye for a moment. "So training a former soldier how to shoot a gun should be a walk in a much less dangerous park."

"How long of a walk?" Arla inquired curtly.

"Excuse me?" Ikora said sternly. "Miss Hendricks will be your teammate until we officially decide whether or not to assign her to a fireteam because as far as I know, you two are currently in the market for a new addition."

"Well yes I see that, but don't you think we could take on someone a little more experienced? Someone who knows how things work nowadays?"

Ikora placed a hand on her hand, using her thumb and forefinger to massage opposite temples. "Look, I'm going to be straight with you," the Vanguard relented. Arla leaned forward onto the table and crossed her arms over it. "Zavala feels rather put out that he did not have a Guardian help destroy the Black Garden, something Cayde has made sure to hold over his head."

"Okay, and why does that result in us getting a trainee?" Arla demanded a little more politely than she had been a few seconds ago, probably happy that she was finally getting a real reason.

"Zavala wants her to be with you two until something big happens again, so he can say he's had a Titan do something monumental besides guard a massive wall. I've done some digging, and the trend says he's right. Many of the more famous Guardians had a breakthrough event followed by more critical battles and skirmishes. Don't let this go to your head, but the entire Vanguard thinks that you two haven't even reached the pinnacle of what you can do yet. There's more Darkness to fight."

I interrupted. "Pardon me, but it almost sounds like you want us to bite off more than we can chew and miraculously come home alive. To say that the Black Garden is not the hardest thing we'll face does not exactly bode well for the City or even us."

"The Garden was the most immediate threat to the City because of its proximity, but there are many more things we are yet to find and fight, each one I can guarantee will be more fearsome and dangerous than the last. Believe you me, I was the main opponent to Zavala's argument, but unfortunately one is not a majority in a group of three. Know that we do not take this assignment lightly, but the situation demands it. I don't know if you've realized it yet, but since the Traveler gained some of its Light back, there are more Ghosts seeking their Guardians. People we have designated for the small amounts of training we can do here are in short supply. Besides Maximus, you of all people should know that we rely on field experience to teach the newer Guardians." Ikora gave a small smile near the end.

Arla obviously wanted to get out of here, the sudden request spoiling her mood. I kind of did too, but not necessarily for the same reason. Like I said, I wasn't surprised by this because she was already somewhat familiar to me, but my experience in the military taught me things. For instance, the elite were the elite, and that status had to be earned. I could only assume that they found something in Charli that was rather unique, possibly something similar to what I did in my early days of being a Guardian that were indeed not too long ago. I just wanted to get out of this room. Relaying the specifics of an operation for the database was unbearably boring.

Ikora looked at Arla, almost internally pleading. "Please Arla. We need your co-operation on this. Think of this as the time we added Maximus to your team, or the time I assigned you to that mission with Heksis. Both of you have gotten along rather well since then I'd venture to say." A valid argument in my opinion.

"The circumstances were different back then. We weren't part of the big front or public figures when Maximus came around, and I was on vacation when you dropped that surprise mission on me."

Ikora continued to try and reason with Arla. "Look, I know you're not my biggest fan after the Heksis thing, but don't let the past cloud your present duties."

"I'm not angry about the Heksis thing," Arla stated flatly with a slight tinge of anger hiding in the undertone of her voice. "If anything, I ought to thank you for it, but I had to work for my standing, my opportunities to take on high risk . Charli just got revived and is about to have the same opportunity that took me years to earn...

I was beginning to think I should step in and calm her down. Her voice had steadily been rising, and something related to her former self was starting to arise. "Arla," I interrupted, trying to defuse her increasing frustration. Arla held up a hand. I insisted, grabbing hold of her hand and gently placing it on the table. "Arla, this is not you that's talking. You're tired and not thinking clearly." I turned to Ikora, rising from my seat. "I think we'll take our leave now," I stayed with finality. Without waiting for a response, Arla flew threw her seat beneath the table and stomped out of the room.

I also pushed mine in, making angled eye contact with Ikora as I did. Her eyes burned internally with a cold fire more akin to ice than actual flame, a look I'd never seen in her before. I turned to leave, but a hand grabbed my shoulder just before I walked through the door. I turned around just as she retracted the hand. "Try to do something that will satisfy both the Vanguard and Arla," Ikora said, the request sounding more like an order. "The last thing we want to do is drive a barrier between us and the Guardians we lead. Can you be that bridge for now?"

"I don't necessarily have a choice." I exited quickly before she could respond.

I found Arla in her room, one not too far from my own apartment-style room. After rapping gently on the door, Arla gave the system the go ahead to let it slide open automatically. She was laid out on her bed wearing a black tank top and the pants of her armor, the top half hanging neatly on its rack by the door. On the other side of her armor was the shelves of exotic weaponry Arla had amassed over her years as a Guardian. I'd seen her use a fair share of them, but I wasn't too sure she'd actually used all of them. I tore my gaze from the guns glinting sunlight to Arla now sitting up on the bed and twirling one of her knives in her right hand. Her face was much less flushed now with a serene look spread across her face.

"You alright?" I asked calmly, no idea if she was still frustrated.

"I'm fine; great in fact," she replied just as serene as her face suggested. A smile now began to creep on her face. "I mean come on, we've got a new partner. It's exciting. New possibilities and adventures await."

I was confused. "Hold up," I said. "Am I missing something? You were steaming mad a second ago."

Arla gave a suppressed chuckle. "You totally missed my tactic. If there's one thing the Vanguard like to be, it's right. If you haven't noticed it, they like it when someone strokes their ego, a person who follows orders to the T and gets things done."

"So you mean me?" I concluded.

"Exactly. You're a former soldier…"

"As are you," I interrupted.

"Yes, but I've been at the Guardian game much longer than you have. I've picked up a few things here and there that have proven to work. How else do you think Lee and I got you to our team?"

"I figured it was luck of the draw."

The smile continued to grow on her face. "That's not exactly how things always work. Lee was the one who found you first and then told me what he saw: your orb incident. With some digging and a few favors, he got you put into our fireteam, and you've seen where that's gotten us."

I guess it made sense. "So...you were never really mad?"

"Nope. It was all a ruse to get her on our team, and it worked beautifully. Charli is now with us, and we can take on more than chew and come home in time for dinner."

"Okay, let's not get cocky now," I cautioned. Arla chuckled in response. "So what now?" I then asked.

"Tomorrow," Arla said, excitement building in her voice. "We find a little trouble."

"Define 'a little trouble.' I'd rather not get into the same kind of trouble that's made us essentially celebrities," I prodded.

"Well, you said that you found a Cabal base earlier, so how about we give it a visit?" Arla suggested.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Charli was revived not too long ago thinking that she had crashed her ship, and then the Cabal attacked. I'd venture to say that she'll have a couple objections to that plan." To say the least, I was concerned for an emotionally-sensitive human like her. I certainly had my moments, but I generally could put them aside; Arla was the same way but a little more frequent with her moments but not too much. Charli was just in the infant stages of her Guardian career, and that was putting it rather conservatively, her emotions were likely out of whack as she ultimately sorted out what this new-to-her world was.

"Well then, it seems we have a teaching opportunity on our hands. Part of our being Guardians is recognizing our past and its influences but not letting it distract us from our goals."

"You sound more and more like a Vanguard every day," I commented.

"And you sound more human with every passing moment."

"Touche," I relented. "When do you plan on leaving? Charli's probably got a laundry list of things to do on top of the unanswered questions she's got."

Arla stopped twirling her knife, setting it on a nightstand next to her bed. "Well, I'm gonna get some sleep first and then we'll see from there. I suggest you do the same."

"You're probably right. Talk to you later then." Arla nodded and flopped onto her pillows, pulling the blanket to her neck just as I walked through the door. I proceeded to my room which was not too far from hers, and shut down for awhile."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Titan (Striker) Charli Hendricks

A few hours later...

Charli stared at the mirror. In its reflective pane stood a powerful Titan in brilliant orange armor with yellow and red underplates that only accentuated the burnt orange. The paint was pristine from the neck to the black, grippy gloves and even the armored boots on her feet, a condition that would definitely not last long once she got out of the relative safety of the Tower. Her new helmet and weapons lay on the bed in her newly arranged living quarters. Sunlight from a nearby window glinted off the orange finish and streaked down the smooth curve on the front. The helmet was rather curious, lacking a see-through faceplate and replacing it with cameras invisible to the naked eye.

Charli turned back to the mirror and held up her right arm and hand, turning the armored and open appendage over multiple times before tensing the muscles and giving the arm a small flick. Arcs of electricity immediately spread across her arm, many of them gathering at the knuckles of her fist as she stared. All she could feel was awe. This was her doing this, not some implant, a defining power that could prove extremely useful in the field.

She grabbed the helmet off the bed and returned to the mirror, once again staring at what was her for hopefully quite some time. Charli looked herself in the eyes, watching her auburn hair flit about with the air conditioning system. Her face looked soft but experienced, young but old at the same time. A small, spiked form hovered in the background just over her left shoulder. "How do I look Vern?" Charli asked earnestly for the third time.

Vern was Charli's Ghost, customized only in two aspects: the shell and the voice. In the interface, Charli messed with the tonal frequencies and mixes so that it sounded just like Chad Roundtree's from what was so long ago but felt so recent. She gave the shell a deep crimson color with a thin, gold stripe circling from top to bottom. In this crazy and unknown universe, she needed a voice she could recognize easily and that would calm her when she needed it. The personality wasn't the same as his, but she would take what she could get at this point.

"Just as I said earlier," the Ghost said in the synthesized voice she gave it. "Imposing doesn't even begin to describe it." The voice was aggressive but kind and brought back so many tearful memories, but the tears would have to remain on the inside. She was still a soldier, a protector of the innocent and destroyer of those who threatened the peace she tried so hard to keep. Fallen, Cabal, it didn't matter. If she had even the inkling that they would try and shoot at her, her trigger would already be pulled and the target dead or about to die.

"Thanks," Charli said with a smile. Imposing to her enemies was exactly what she wanted. "What time did this Arla person say to meet?"

"The Hangar in two hours. You do remember where that is right?"

"Yeah, I think I got it. If I don't, that's where you come in."

"Right. I'm here if you need me." Vern disappeared in a flash of light.

Charli turned around and looked at the white pistol and blood red hand cannon that lay on her bed. She placed the pistol at her thigh via the magnets built into her armor for just that purpose and held the hand cannon in her right hand. It was as heavy as some of the assault rifles she'd used in the past but barely half the size. The actual end of the barrel jutted out from a squared off metal body. Charli pointed it at the mirror using only one hand but found it too heavy to aim accurately with just one hand, the sight at the end swaying with the natural shake in her hand. Gripping it with two hands, she found the sight much more stable. She could feel the Ghost's presence in her very conscience despite its not physically being there. "Vern," Charli said. "What do you know about Maximus and this Arla person?"

"I can pull up there files for you. If you put on the helmet, I'll put them on the screen for you to look through," the Ghost replied politely. Charli slipped the helmet on over her head, and the HUD came on after only a second or two. Vern pulled up two white pages that seemed to scroll depending on how Charli looked at them. The pages then slid to the middle of her HUD in a slightly offset stack to show that there was another file behind it. The first opened up and showed a picture of the blue Exo, Maximus, that found her on Mars. His yellow eyes in the picture seemed to stare right into her as if they were staring right into her soul. Most of the data there made no sense to her: battle reports, some place called the Black Garden, and a couple run-ins with the Awoken out in the Reef. There was also a void "Final Death Certificate" and attached obituary. 'What happened there?' Charli wondered. There were several questions on her mind about Maximus. It seemed in the relatively short time he'd been a Guardian, he had accomplished so much.

Feeling as though she'd read enough, Charli moved to the other file. An Awoken woman with blue skin with slight undertones of green, shoulder-length brown hair, and glowing green eyes looked back at her. "Arla Nublier," the name slot read. Her file was much longer, sorted by each year she had been a Guardian, 8 nearing 9 in total. She had also seen quite a bit in the field, but the thickest part of the data file was within the one marked for what Charli assumed was the current year. The psych-eval said that she had apparent trust issues with new people she encountered and maintained a strict moral code, deviating it very seldom. The Vanguard, Cayde, had added several of his personal notes to the file, noting her skill with both a combat knife and throwing knives. There were also clippings and pictures of her in an orange uniform, holding a baseball bat or glove. Some were action shots whilst others were obviously staged "action shots."

Charli's eyes wandered back to the Black Garden entry. Something about that name seemed oddly familiar but alien all the same. She brought both files on screen and looked at the sections labeled "Black Garden." In both files was a copy of a very bare-bones battle report of what seemed to be a very easy in and out assassination mission. Curious, Charli looked at an earlier report in each of their files and found it brimming with details and events that pertinent to the report, making the Black Garden file seem even more lackluster. Something was off here. It was almost like they were hiding something on purpose, a dirty secret. "What's the Black Garden?" Charli asked Vern.

"It was a major Vex installation. Maximus and Arla went in and destroyed the Heart within it, basically the control center for the Vex. The Vanguard are wary of the report both of them sent in because neither of them have allowed the Vanguard access to the feed from their Ghosts to back up the reports."

"Hmm." The Vex, murderous robots that Charli knew very little about but also knew that they were not to be trifled with. They were what ultimately caused the MFN to evacuate several cities as they invaded from below ground. Meanwhile, the Cabal took them as a distraction to besiege these same cities from above ground, creating a two-fronted fight that the top brass knew they would ultimately lose. There originally had been a theory going around that the Vex were part of the Cabal army, but that was quickly dispelled when several confirmed reports noted fighting between the two whenever their fronts collided. Charli pushed the ensuing memories out of her mind. The less she thought about those weeks leading to her final moments, the better off she'd be. She just had to bury them with new memories in this new world. "Do you think that the reports are blatant lies?"

"I certainly have my concerns about them, but if the Vanguard accepted them, I don't think it's wise to question their decision. They've got a lot more experience than me and most definitely you when it comes to the goings on here. Maybe the report seemed normal to them."

"Should I ask them about the Garden?"

"The Vanguard won't be able to tell you much more about the Garden…"

"No. Maximus and Arla."

Vern was quiet for a moment, probably thinking over the chances. "It's a little naive to think they'll just tell you something they haven't told the Vanguard."

"So you DO think they're lying."

"I said I have my doubts. I feel that there are more blanks to fill into the story mainly because I don't think it was a simple in-and-out operation. The Vanguard has lost plenty of Guardians while they tried to find the Garden. A closely guarded secret like that place was likely difficult to find and extremely dangerous."

"How do you think they got in then? Especially since this Maximus guy hasn't even been a Guardian for a year."

"A very good question. One that I cannot answer even though I would love to be able to. I feel like they had outside help, maybe the Awoken, but they haven't been very cooperative in the past. Given those two's history with the Awoken, I again have my doubts on that theory."

"What happened?"

"Once again, we don't know much, but we do know that Maximus got into a fight with the Prince, one Uldren Sov."

"Yeah, I think I have doubts on that theory too."

"Well regardless, you need to be ready for field work pretty shortly. Anything you want to do to occupy these next couple hours?"

"I kinda want to explore this city we're supposed to be protecting." Charli wanted to get an idea of exactly what she was protecting rather than just having blind faith in it.

"A little less than two hours isn't quite enough to get a good grip on the City. I'd rather us go to the firing range and get you accustomed to those guns."

"I know how to shoot a gun," Charli argued politely.

"I get that, but I'd like to make sure everything is functioning properly before we go get shot at just to have it fail."

"How about this: we go to the range, but we take on that obstacle course down there instead."

Vern thought for a moment. "Well, it uses live rounds, so...fine. Just try not to pull anything stupid or too aggressive." Charli smiled and took off the helmet.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The obstacle course was more like a simulator than an actual course. The instructor would send the Guardian's Ghost an encrypted data file that would augment the Guardian's visual sensors in their armor, making their surroundings and stand-in enemies look like the real thing they would find outside the Tower. This area was found closer to the bottom of the tower (within the first five floors) and took up two floors due to simulated elevation.

The air smelled like gunpowder and energy burns, a thing the pristine silver floor and white walls could not confirm in the slightest. Each one of their surfaces was pristine to the absolute highest degree. Charli instinctively walked cautiously as if she were afraid of tracking mud onto the surfaces, a rather extraneous fear but present nonetheless. A pair of Guardians, a Titan and Hunter, stood in front of a counter with their helmets on and guns strapped or magnetically fixed to their backs. Both turned their heads as soon as Charli walked in, looking away from the data pads that each of them held. The Hunter gave Charli a nod before going back to whatever he was looking at beforehand. However, the Titan took off his helmet and turned off his data pad, setting both down on the desk in front of him. Said Titan was a human with fair skin, an understanding face, and brown hair shaved at the sides but slicked forward on top either by sweat or gel. Charli walked towards the desk with a smile on her face. "Hello!" the Titan at the desk said politely in a surprisingly deep voice as Charli walked up.

"Afternoon," Charli replied with a small wave from her right hand.

"Can't say I've seen you here before. You new?"

"You could say that," Charli admitted.

"Always nice to meet new Guardians. Name's Cormack, Cormack Johnson." He extended a hand, and Charli promptly shook it. "And you are…?"

"Charli Hendricks."

"Hey Frank!" The Titan shouted to the Hunter focusing intently on his data pad. "She said her last name's Hendricks, just like you." The Hunter, now seated, threw his head over the back of the chair and sighed. "It's a common surname," he said cynically in an old British accent. "It's just like someone walking in with the last name Smith or Johnson.

"Always the pessimist aren't you?"

"Someone's gotta do it."

"Just like someone's gotta help this fine lady do what she came here to do. So what can I help you with today Miss Hendricks?"

Charli was caught off guard by the question; she hadn't been paying much attention to their brief conversation, but she recovered just in time to hopefully not make it seem awkward. In truth, she'd almost forgotten why she even came here before Vern put some thoughts into her mind. "Oh, um, I was hoping I could run the simulator a few times. Get a hang for this hand cannon." Charli grabbed the gun off a magnetic holster just above her waist on her back and held it up for Cormack to see.

"Nice weapon," the Titan said. "Glad you came here with it first rather than sprinting off into the field to shoot up some Fallen. New weapons are always a bit finicky with the first hundred or so shots, especially hand cannons. May I take a look at it real fast? I promise I'll give it right back."

"Sure." Charli made sure the safety was on and flipped the handle of the gun so that the Titan could grab it comfortably. Cormack hefted the gun in his hand for a moment, aiming down its sights, pulling out the capsule and reloading it. Done with his inspection, he returned the gun. "Very nice hand cannon you've got there. Marking said it was made in the last couple weeks, so you should be okay in terms of misfires, but just be careful. Also, keep the hammer oiled, so that the gun can actually shoot; a gun that can't fire isn't much more than a piece of steel you can hit someone with."

"Noted," Charli replied.

"Alright, so you want a combat simulation?" Charli nodded in response. "Well then, let's take a look at some basic combat on Earth. Fallen sound good to you?"

"Perfect," Charli confirmed, a half-smile curling the left side of her lips.

"Alright then. So what's going to happen is I'm going to send your Ghost some data, a modification to your suit's coding. It'll...adjust the optical sensors so that a different area is displayed. In this case it'll an abandoned city on Earth formatted to match the course layout for today. The damage the Fallen do to you will be simulated, but it will hurt because of some of the other changes this mod makes."

"Any advice?" Charli asked, not really needing it, but maybe this man had some words of wisdom for her.

"Find a fighting style that suits you. Cover-to-cover works just like it almost always has, but practically all the famous Guardians move laterally as well. Y'know, jumping and shooting. It's kinda fun when you get the hang of it." Cormack tapped something into his datapad and tapped something on it with a final-looking press of his fingertip. "Also, you may want to use grenades."

"Grenades?" Charli asked. She looked all over her person, checking each pocket and strap, but there were no grenades to be found. "Nobody's given me any grenades."

"Strange, you should've gotten a small belt like this." The Titan unstrapped a small black belt fashioned at his waist that had three silver balls on it, each one about the size of Charli's palm. Suddenly, there was a rip of Velcro, and Cormack offered the strap of grenades. "Go ahead, take 'em. I can get more pretty easily. Strap 'em on, and they'll automatically draw power from your suit one by one. Wait thirty seconds between each through, and they should have enough charge for a decent flashbang. Your Ghost will pick up the metal ball and place it back on the belt."

Charli reached for the belt and strapped it on her right arm because she'd always thrown better with her left despite being ambidextrous. "Thanks," she said as she fastened it, pulling it tight against the plasteel armor she wore. The metal balls looked much heavier than they actually were and stayed motionless whenever Charli moved her arm. Cormack waved off her gratitude. "No problem at all. Just glad I could help. Ready?" Charli nodded and drew the hand cannon from its holster once more. Cormack pointed to a black and yellow line a few meters from where they stood. "Step beyond that line and give me a thumbs up when you're ready. An energy barrier will form on that line and the simulation will begin. Just touch the energy shield, it won't harm you I promise, when you're done."

"Will do," Charli said as she stepped beyond the line and pulled her helmet over her head. Everything was dark for a moment, the gun's weight increasing for a moment as Charli was left in total oblivion, aware of where she was but feeling like she was standing in the middle of nothing, like a weird sort of limbo. She gave a thumbs up and suddenly light poured in from her surroundings just as her HUD fired up, almost as if she were opening her eyes to it for the first time.

It looked like some kind of suburb. Dilapidated and destroyed houses lined each side of a cracked asphalt road dotted with large craters. Embers crawled through the air while smoke eased its way through the wind like a cloud. Charli turned around and saw a wall of bright blue energy scarcely two feet from where she stood. It went as high as the eye could see and boundlessly to the left and right. As she took a pair of careful steps backwards, she noticed that the wall of light seemed to disappear the farther she walked away from it, getting replaced by more of the ravaged scenery. In the distance Charli could see a "hill" with a cul de sac rounding out on the top, a singular perched at its crest looking down over all the things below it. She turned her eyes to the sky and saw an ash gray sky with a piercing sun desperately trying to shed its light on the surface, thicker clouds of smoke muddling the rays. Several Fallen Skiffs loomed in the distance, carrying their repulsive pirate crews.

Charli was amazed at just how real all of this looked and felt, losing herself in the scenery for a moment. Her grip on the gun relaxed slightly, voluntarily letting her arm go limp and letting the gun's weight dangle at her side.

Out of nowhere, something slammed into her head, leaving Charli on the ground with her head spinning. Her head felt like knives had been jabbed in it as she quickly tried to refocus her vision; a white bar in the top of her HUD pulsated red before it recovered. She pulled herself off the ground and ran to a house on the right, bolting past the front and pressing her back to the siding of the house, the seemingly flimsy plastic surprisingly sturdy, must have been another energy wall. Charli put both hands on the hand cannon and peered out from the side of the house, trying to catch a glimpse of the sniper. Nothing but cratered road and destroyed houses.

The one she was taking cover behind was mostly intact, the roof caved in but the walls still standing. Everything was dead silent besides her own breathing. Keeping her head down, Charli turned the corner and hurried to the next house. As she ran, a bolt of pure energy screamed toward her, an instinctive duck saving her from taking another into the head. Charli slid into the cover of the next house, this wall being similarly intact but in more disrepair, large holes dotting its surface. She had an idea of where the sniper was, about three houses away on the opposite side of the street. Charli took aim in its general direction and fired three shots. A shadowy shape ducked beneath the destroyed front wall. 'Gotcha,' Charli thought as she made her way to the other side of the house and continued moving up.

Another house, more listening for any idea of where her enemies were. Thus far, it'd only been that sniper. Charli crossed the back of the house and looked at the one she'd seen the sniper in, purposely sticking her head out to draw a shot, but none came, just eerie silence. She leaned out and fired another three shots into the house's collapsed walls. This time there was no movement, but instead a loud cry of agony. She'd hit him somehow.

Charli sprinted into the lack of a doorway and started looking for the downed Fallen, whatever class it was. She swept the floors with her hand cannon at the ready, her HUD warning her that there were only two shots left in the capsule before she'd have to switch it. For the most part, the house was completely dark except for small pinholes carved out by bullets or shrapnel that allowed small pinpricks of light in. Her suit automatically turned on the night vision as she searched for the injured sniper, but after looking around the floors and walls for any sign of blood or activity, she couldn't find anything. Instead, she picked up the nasty sense that she was being watched. Looking up, there wasn't much to see besides a torn apart ceiling and the aforementioned pinpricks of light, blinding dots of bright green in the night vision. Had she imagined the cry? Had the simulator glitched out? Perhaps, the body disappeared when it was killed. Then again, what kind of a crappy simulator would that be? "Hey Vern, do you know if the bodies disappear in the simulator?"

The Ghost was silent for a moment before replying, "No, they don't as far as I'm aware, not until you have quite a substantial amount. Tracker says zero kills, so that Vandal should be around here somewhere."

'So it was a Vandal,' Charli thought. They have a tendency of turning...Charli spun on her heel just in time to swat away a blade and send a semi-transparent form off-balance down the hallway she was in, the invisible blades cutting very noticeable gashes in the wall as it tried to stop its momentum. She leveled her aim and fired off a shot at the creature she couldn't see all that well in the dark. As expected, her shot smashed into the back wall. The Vandal's invisibility flickered and then deactivated, showing off mostly white armor with pieces coated in blood red. It wore a sleek rifle on its back and held two blades in its top set of hands.

Charli shot the last bullet in the capsule, but only managed to graze its shoulder, leaving it relatively unharmed. Her heart was beating much faster, her stomach much lighter. She quickly flicked the hand cannon open and tried to jam another capsule in, but her shaking hands made her drop the capsule just as the Vandal charged forward with its swords ready to strike. Charli sidestepped the blades just in time. She dropped the hand cannon and grabbed the sidearm with her left hand, moving immediately to fire it, but the Vandal kicked it out of her hand before she ever had a good grip on it. The kick was swiftly followed by a second that knocked Charli to the ground. The white bar had decreased about a quarter of its length.

The Vandal then leapt forward, trying to drive both blades lengthwise into Charli. She rolled to her right and met the wall just as the blades sliced into the dilapidated, ash-covered carpet. Rolling back, she could only see the Vandal's shadowy form standing above her about to swing again. Charli tensed the muscles in her arm and grabbed hold of its leg. Arcs of electricity immediately streaked up the Vandal's armored leg and caused its leg, and other parts of its body, to immediately tense and spasm uncontrollably. Pulling the paralyzed Fallen's feet from beneath it, Charli stood up and then brought an electricity-cloaked fist on its head. The Vandal quickly turned transparent, disappearing into a light blue outline and into nothingness.

Her heart was racing and her breathing equally as quick. She didn't recall Mars, past or present, being as stressful as that. Was it her last memories with the Fallen afflicting her subconsciously? The faces of her fallen comrades flashed in front of her eyes, flickering away almost as fast as they came. A few seconds later, they appeared again with eyes black as night, a devilish smile draped over their lips. They continued flashing in and out, morphing more and more into faces of the Fallen and causing her heart to race even faster. Sweat dripped out of every pore. Imaginary gunfire rang in her ears as she watched both of her friends die, the memory replaying itself in her head several times, taunting her with her inability to save the people she cared for.

Charli shut her eyes and sprinted through the house, blindly crashing into multiple walls before crashing through a partially destroyed one and out in the street again. Only then did the visions subside long enough for Charli to notice the dozen Fallen charging down the hill. The fear-filled and sorrowful tears that had begun to well up in her eyes turned to fire, lava running down her face. She suddenly felt the weight of her hand cannon pulling down her arm, her index finger poised over the trigger.

Charli planted her feet and dashed forward, charging straight toward the Fallen. They began firing before they reached the bottom of the hill, before Charli was anywhere close to them, but their streaks of plasma only took a small adjustment to the left or right to avoid. She snatched one of the grenades, jumped into the air, and tossed it right at the bottom of the hill, firing off a pair of bullets in the process.

The grenade exploded in a flash of white light, sending several dead Dregs flying through the air and ragdolling onto the ground. The Captain in the center of the group broke off immediately, shoving a Vandal back where the grenade was as the group scattered. Feeling a sudden rush of energy and an instinct she'd never felt before, Charli landed softly and continued sprinting forward but put her weapon back on the magnets, tightening both of her fists and causing arcs of electricity to streak up and down her arms as she charge forward. 10m...5...2...she leapt into the air, shouting a war cry at the top of her lungs as she swung her arms over her head, and threw them into the ground. A shockwave of blue energy enveloped several meters in every direction with her at the center. All of the remaining Fallen failed to outrun the pulse of energy, the edge of the field passing straight through them and turning into fast-fading outlines.

Charli pushed herself to her feet, the excess energy spent in that charge of destruction, but adrenaline, fury, still pumped through her veins. She looked dead at the Fallen Captain trying to scramble up the hill and launched herself after it, closing the gap in a matter of seconds and then jumping feet first onto its back. The force she carried easily planted the Captain's face into the ground. She electrified her hands and flipped the Captain so that she could see its face, the arc energy on her hands quickly dispelling its shield and paralyzing it as she flipped it over. She stared into its glowing eyes behind the helmet, emotionless and dead, uncaring and hostile. She saw no fear in the Captain's eyes as she pulled out her hand cannon. Perhaps it was the simulation, but then again, maybe it was just how these pirates were even after all these years.

Something momentarily held Charli back, like a ghostly hand on the shoulder trying to set her arm by her side. It was almost like a voice was telling her to stop, to tell her to let go, it echoed through her mind as a thought rather than a physical voice, the signature similar but also different from that of Vern's. 'Protect. Do not destroy,' the thought echoed, but Charli did not hear it. The Fallen had their chance to stop the fighting, and they came with guns.

Charli pulled the trigger.


	8. Attacker Unknown

**Chapter 7**

 **Attacker Unknown**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

Mars was beautiful but dangerous. There was something about the red, sloping sand that gave it a sort of picturesque quality, especially from the top of one of its many mountains. To get to said mountains, one would have to go through waves of Cabal and Vex, coloring the sand in colors that had become increasingly natural to it since its invasion, one that Charli had witnessed first hand, or at least experienced the tail end of it. I felt bad bringing her here, but the Darkness didn't care if it faced a rookie just learning how to use a gun or an experienced veteran with precise aim. It killed all it failed to corrupt.

I led the way on my Sparrow with Charli and Arla following just outside of the contrail and V of sand whipped up as I raced by. Olympus Mons loomed in the distance, and just over a mile from here was the Cabal base we were going to bust into, grab as much intel as we could before the servers wipe themselves, and get out (hopefully) in one piece. I could only wish anything could be that simple. As I'd learned in my time in the AEA and as a Guardian, nothing ever was.

We swerved around the boulder that took Charli and me out the last time we were here and rocketed towards what we believed was an entrance to the base. If it wasn't, there was not telling what it led to and how that tank wound up coming after us. This time however, no tanks materialized and we approached the bulkhead easily.

It looked like it was cut directly into the side of the cliff face, one that extended at least a hundred feet above our heads if not more, which made it a great area for some sort of ambush. The bulkhead itself was entirely composed of a thick and seemingly impenetrable alloy similar to the durasteel many of the heavier doors in the City were made of, but this looked denser, more advanced. One of the perks of being a militarial society, especially when you go up against an enemy that refuses to die, technological advancements around every corner. There was a long slit at the lower left hand corner that extended to the opposing corner above us at a constant degree. This slit was only interrupted by a circular lock with lights that made a red square within the circular shape. The door remained shut tight as we approached, no creaks or groans. The sand tapered off into a metal ramp that gave off a choir of thuds as we walked towards the door. This was definitely a Cabal base, but I wasn't sure which part of one we were standing in front of. It very well could be a garage of some sort or perhaps a hangar; both were similar in purpose, but one would have multiple tanks on the other side whilst the other would have inactive machines.

"Any insight Charli?" Arla asked as she studied door.

Charli was keeping her eyes peeled on the cliff that hung above us, as if she was expecting an ambush from above. "Not really," she replied. "I honestly expected the Cabal to have come after us by now. It's not like them to allow three enemies to simply walk up to their door."

"Agreed," I replied. "They usually seek out there enemies rather than the other way around."

Arla took a few steps back from the bulkhead, still looking it over from every possible angle. "Could they be under orders not to come out?"

"Maybe," I said. "Could they be protecting some sort of new technology or other secret?"

"That's definitely not like them," Charli inserted, giving up on any attack from above. If they were going to do one, boulders would have rained from above already. "The Cabal would use a new technology as soon as they developed it way back when, and I'm almost positive that hasn't changed."

"Probably hasn't," Arla concurred. "However, we need to get in there. There's been a lot more mobilization on their part, and the Vanguard doesn't like it."

"What about getting rid of the Fallen and Hive on Earth?" Charli questioned. "It makes more sense to clear the homefront and then focus your efforts elsewhere."

"Because the Cabal are able to invade, conquer, and destroy entire worlds simply because said planets get in there way and have resources they can use for more weapons and armor. With the Vex pretty much out of the picture, the Cabal are the most immediate threat. Pirates and insects don't really concern the Vanguard as much as an actual Empire."

"Oh."

"Let's focus on this door shall we," I added, trying to bring everyone back to the task at hand.

"I've got it," Starco said as he materialized and floated towards the door, positioning himself in front of the circular lock and doing various scans on it.

"I'll get a look from above," Arla said as she pulled out a black sidearm holstered on her thigh. A second later, she fired a grappling hook from it and rocketed towards the top of the cliff. After a few seconds, she declared, "Got a couple of dead bodies up here. Cabal. They're partially buried in the sand, so they've been here sometime before that sandstorm passed through.

"Can we get a feed?" I asked. Arla's reply came in the form of a small box that essentially shared what her helmet was picking up, a first person glimpse into the world from her eyes. There were two dead Legionaries in the feed, both lying in dried pools of their own body juices, the sand beneath them stained an ugly blue-green. One was facing upward while the other was lying face-first in the sand. "Do you see any bullet holes or scorch marks?"

Arla put away her rifle and crouched down to get a better look. She worked her hands and nimble fingers across their armor as she tried to find evidence of some kind of shot. As she inched her way across the Legionary with its face in the ground, her fingers caught on something momentarily. "I got something," she declared over the comms. She climbed on the creature's back and investigated the place where her fingers caught. It was a hole, but it was vertically elongated and not very wide, a strange shape for a plasma burn or bullet hole. Suddenly, Arla pulled out one of her combat knife and slowly inserted the blade into the slit. Her blade was slightly smaller than the slit but otherwise confirmed what Arla was likely suspecting. "This one was stabbed with a blade of some sort. Not a Guardian though. Stargazer's not picking up any sign of light that isn't our own."

"What about the other one?" I asked.

Arla moved off the first Legionary and started looking over the one lying face-up. Its helmet had a rather nasty gash in its top with dried blood on the edges. The main plates of its armor also had wide slashes with large stains similar to those on the helmet. "Looks like this one got hacked rather than just simply stabbed. To me it looks like a sneak attack. Whatever attacked one got that one from the back, this one saw it, and then tried to fight…"

A loud metallic _THUD_ echoed through the air. I spun on my heel and immediately looked at the door. Now, the lights were blue, and the circle began to spin for a few seconds before it slowed down again. "Arla, stay up there!" I commanded. "Charli get to cover!"

"Roger," both said in surprising unison.

I drew the rifle Dea gave me and took cover on the edge of the bulkhead just as it split open with a hiss. Several long seconds passed in absolute silence as we waited for whatever opened the door to show itself, but nothing came, just the softened sounds of Charli and Arla's breathing over the comms. Carefully, I peered around the edge of the bulkhead to see who or what was in there. "Move in," I whispered. "Arla watch our six." The feed from Arla's helmet cut out, and we proceeded forward, crouched and careful with our weapons ready to fire at the slightest inkling of danger. Bright lights immediately flashed on as we stepped into what looked like the piece of the base devoted solely to housing tanks. At least a dozen tanks lined each side, but the dead Cabal littering the ground far outnumbered the vehicles, some lying dead on top of some of the tanks. Several of the tanks were skewed to one side or another, signs of massive damage across several pieces of their plating. Something big had happened in here, and I had the feeling it had something to do with our mystery killer.

I walked over to the nearest body and gave it a quick once-over. It didn't take me long to see that the injuries it sustained were very similar to those of the Legionaries on top. Large gashes where a blade slashed through their armor and tore away their life littered not only this body but also that of those around it. The main gashes were across the chest and then one through the head. The room was a gruesome sight that was definitely not for the weak of heart or stomach. Arla eventually joined us wordlessly and kept her eyes peeled for movement just like Charli and me. "What's gotta happen for them to look like this?" Charli commented. "It's like something to a hack and slash spree through here."

"Arla," I said. "Do you know if Heksis has been out here recently?"

"No," she responded after a moment of thought. We were approaching the edge of this spacious room and the beginning of a much smaller hallway. By the looks of it, the hallway also had several bodies sprawled out on its floor or leaned up against its walls. "He's been at the Tower or in the City the last couple days. Probably taking care of a few errands. You don't think…?"

I turned my head and looked at Arla. "The way these Cabal died remind me a lot of what you say his handiwork is like, especially when we gets mad."

Arla stooped over a body, feeling the gash in its armor with her own fingers before rubbing the dry blood off of her fingers with her thumb. "These cuts are clean enough," she concluded. "Heksis makes clean cuts that kill his targets quickly with little to no suffering unless, like you said, he gets mad. Still, the cuts don't look like his." She stood up and looked at more of the bodies.

"Let's keep moving," I said. We moved quickly and quietly to the hallway and proceeded one by one, marking each corner as we they came up. We traveled deeper and deeper into the base, the elevation taking a very noticeable dip and the Darkness thickening to the point it felt like a light weight pressing down on my shoulders. With each step and new hallway, the number of bodies seemed to decrease until it was just one or two and then none. The light grew nonexistent, forcing us to use the lights on our helmets because we didn't want to risk having our Ghosts shot. Eerie didn't even begin to describe the atmosphere in that base. I doubted whatever did this was still here, but I'd been wrong plenty of times before.

We'd gone down three levels by now, and the paths were beginning to split off increasingly more often. We kept moving straight as much as we could, but eventually we'd meet a wall and be forced to turn around or go a different direction. Almost all of the doors we'd seen thus far had been closed, likely a failsafe in case someone or something got in here, one of these was the server room, but Starco hadn't seen a sign that stated which room it was exactly. Much of their signs were in their coded military language that probably made perfect sense to a Legionary or Phalanx but practically nothing to a Ghost and absolutely nothing to someone like Arla or me. We tried asking Charli to make high or low of the symbols that roughly translated to a military alphabet of terms that in itself was a code, but she reminded us that "By and large, [she was] a pilot, not infantry." She didn't say it harshly, but it was the way she said it that tipped me, and possibly Arla off, like she wasn't telling us something. My guess is that she was still trying to figure out who she was, something I didn't struggle with all that much. I instead had to convince myself that I was the same, just given a similar but different calling, a little more politically involved than I was accustomed to.

Starco's voice interrupted my thoughts. It surprised me enough to cause me to stop walking for a seconds. I didn't hear what he said, but Arla noticed my small jump. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Just got surprised that's all."

"By what?" Arla and Charli stopped walking as well, coming alongside me almost in unison.

"Starco."

Silence took over for a short moment as Arla and Charli apparently wanted me to elaborate. Before I could speak, the Ghost materialized in a flash of light in front of me. "I think I found the server room. One floor below us. I caught onto a weak data stream, not sure what it is, but it may explain what exactly happened here."

"I'm a little more interested in seeing a little action," Charli stated flatly, checking the capsule in her hand cannon.

"Let's find this intel before we find some action," Arla said, her voice slightly uneasy. "I don't like the look of this place after whatever happened here."

Once again, Starco interrupted before I could speak. "Well then, let's check out this server room before this data stream grows cold, or anyone's trigger finger twitches. I get the feeling that whatever did this is still here. After all, that door was closed."

"Agreed," I replied. I turned to the Titan and Huntress at my side."Keep your weapons ready," I warned. "If that thing is still here, we have to put it down before we end up like the Cabal." I shifted the weight of my gun in my hands to ensure I still had a good grip on it. Both of them nodded and seemed to clutch their weapons all the tighter. They were nervous and perhaps slightly unnerved. The Cabal were known to be tough, just as Charli and I had seen earlier, but the evidence here indicated a short and rather one-sided fight. I doubted that there had been only one attacker, but the fact we were yet to run across a body of an attacker was rather curious. Either they had cleaned up any of their dead, or they were simply that tough. I leaned more towards the former.

Starco set a diamond-shaped marker on a door down the hallway, one that was remarkably small for something the Cabal would use. The three of us could fit easily, but a Legionary, Phalanx, or other standard Cabal soldier would have almost no way of actually getting in without shedding almost all of their armor and a large percent of their weight. As with many of the other doors, this one was locked down and was not about to budge. Starco materialized and began trying to hack his way in without me saying a word. "You see the door?" I asked the others.

"It's right in front of me," Charli snipped but immediately seemed to realize her mistake just as she said it.

I shed the comment. "No, look at the size of the door."

Arla took a step closer and put a hand on the door, sliding it up and door its dust-covered surface that made it seem more red-orange than the actual gray metal it was made of. "It's smaller."

"Exactly. Normal Cabal can't fit through these doors…"

Arla continued my statement as she backed away from the door. "...Which means that the Psions used this door."

"Starco, you still picking up that data stream?"

"It's still there," he responded. "The signal seems to be emanating from somewhere in that room. Below it specifically, but I don't think there are any more stairs for us to take. At least none that pop up on my scans."

"What about getting it open?" I asked. The Ghost backed up from the door and shook itself side to side. "No good," he replied. "Whatever's keeping it closed does not want to let us in."

"Is the power on this floor still on?" Charli asked. We'd seen power still working on the first couple of floors, but the almost absolute darkness, aside from our lights, made it look as though the power had been cut off or largely shut down.

"Seems like it," her Ghost replied in a deceptively stern and confident voice. "I can feel the data stream too. Maybe they're using some sort of wireless power grid."

"Well, what about the door?" Arla said, pressing her fingers on the edge of each side and trying to force it open. "We need...to get...inside," Arla grunted as she tried to open it herself. The door didn't even budge before her hands slipped, nearly throwing her on her back both times. The second time, Charli caught her by the arm just before she hit the ground. Arla thanked her, stood up, and crossed her arms, slightly frustrated.

Charli stepped forward and gestured to the door. "Could we overload it with a power source of our own?"

I looked at Arla. "I don't have anything better."

"Neither do I. Let's see this thing that nearly killed everyone in the room."

Charli stepped in front of the door. Centering herself, she clenched and shook her right fist. Immediately, bright arcs of electricity raced up her arm and then spread across the door when she touched it. She too tried to pry the door open just in case it was jammed. Just as it appeared she was making some progress, she slipped on something and landed on her back. The arcs stopped just as quickly as they began as she landed solidly on her back. Arla and I immediately rushed to her and helped her back on her feet. "You alright?" I asked.

Back on her feet, Charli brushed our hands away. "I'm fine. That door definitely wants to open; something's in the way though, a misalignment perhaps."

Now it was my turn to take a look at the door. Unlike the others, I felt along the bottom, and when I got about a foot from the right side, I knew why the door was stuck. "Can I get a light over here?" I called out. "I found something." A light was shone right where I was. I couldn't believe we hadn't noticed it before. One the lower edge of the door frame was a largely dried pool of blue-green blood, seemingly fresh puddles pooling out from where Charli had opened the door ever so slightly.

"That's disgusting," Charli muttered.

"Welcome to ground combat," Arla said to her quietly. "Bit different from the air huh? Little less glamorous?" Charli didn't respond. "Now that we know what's blocking it from opening, I have an idea."

"Shoot," I responded.

Arla grabbed an object from her belt and set it down carefully next to the door. As soon as she did, a red beam emitted from the device and made a small circle on the door. "Now I just need a bullet." Arla drew the pistol from her thigh and pulled the slide back, causing a single bullet to fly out. She sntatched it out of the air and told us to stand back. Charli and I walked back a few yards to give Arla some space. She too walked back while keeping an eye on her device. A few feet behind Arla, both of us crouched down. The Huntress looked back at us for a moment, receiving a nod from me and then responding with her own and a raised left hand. On that hand, she counted down three, two, one...She reared back her arm and threw the bullet in a direct line straight into the laser beam, retreating to where we were not even a second after. There was an instantaneous flash of light and explosion as the device detonated.

I pointed my weapon and brought up the circular, holographic sights and pointed them where the explosion was, fully expecting Psions or something to pour out of the door. Everything was still for several seconds as we awaited a squad of Cabal to attack, but nothing came. The Psions must have been dead as well. I kept my eye on the door through the sights and motioned for Arla and Charli to follow me closely. Soundlessly, I approached the door, the blast had definitely done some damage to it and the wall, the door hadn't opened all the way. Instead, the bottom part broke off and created sharp jagged edges that tilted quite a ways inward. There was a small amount of dim lighting within the room. Arla crouched on the other side of the door while Charli pressed up against the wall a few inches from me. As expected, there was no movement on the other side of the door. I glanced down at the opening the explosion had created. There metal peeled inward for about the first foot and a half before the angle straightened. Looking at the bottom of the frame, I still couldn't see what was leaking out that blood, but I knew that somewhere in the shredded metal there was a Psion, possibly charred beyond recognition given the blast. I looked at Arla. "Help me push this metal up a little more," I told her, keeping my voice quiet. "Charli, go prone and keep an eye on the gap between us." Both nodded in agreement. Arla put her weapon on its holster as I did with mine and placed two hands on the bent metal. I had no idea if we could actually push hard enough to move it, but it was worth a shot. "3...2...1…" I counted, and after one, we both pushed on the metal simultaneously. It groaned obnoxiously loud, the sound echoing down the hall, but we eventually were able to move the gap upward almost eight inches, just enough for us to get through one at the time if we crawled through.

I secured my weapon on my back. "I'll go first," I said to Arla and Charli. I crouched down and edged my way underneath the bent and twisted metal. Once through, I gave the room a swift once over before signaling Arla and Charli through. At first glance, I couldn't necessarily tell what this room was for. What looked like some of console lined the walls of this small room with metal chairs in front of each one. The consoles were literally blue lights in the wall that stuck out prominently against the dimness of the room. White strips of overheads cast a ghostly glow in the air that seemed to only cast more shadow than it did illumination. Other than the chairs against the consoles, the room was essentially a short pathway that led to what I presumed to be a stairwell at the back. The only things that marred the otherwise clear pathway to the back were crumpled black masses that looked oddly enough like bodies, a clear sign that our friends had gotten in here as well.

I marked the room with my weapon, sweeping it from side to side until I was sure it was clear. I couldn't shake the sense that it wasn't though. Perhaps it was the presence of the bodies. "Everything alright?" Charli asked over the radio.

I kept scanning the room for movement. "Come on through, but keep your weapons up. Something tells me we aren't alone."

"Thank goodness," Charli whispered, relieved. "Thought I was going crazy." One of them patted me lightly on the back when they both were through and ready to keep moving. Nothing had moved during the short time it took them to come through, but the relative silence only made me warier. We approached one of the bodies slowly.

It was indeed a Psion, its petite frame and strange armor being a dead giveaway, and the wounds it had sustained were very similar to that of its much larger brethren but more aggressive and lethal. This body had a single stab through the head. Looking around, the position of the bodies hinted at a single attacker that they had surrounded. As usual though, no evidence of what actually did this. Done with our observations, we kept moving towards the back of the room where two doors diverged in a small alcove. After taking a moment to translate, Starco came back that the left one was what we were looking for, the server room. I waited for the door to automatically slide open, but it didn't budge in the slightest. Taking the chance to do something, Charli stepped forward and pried the door open manually, grabbing it on the right edge and breaking its locks easily. The metal screeched loudly as it was forcefully moved to the left, but that didn't concern me. If nothing came after us after that explosion, I doubted something could have heard that. "Thanks," I said with a nod as we each passed through the door and descended the steps into the server room.

Like the room above it, the server room was extremely compact. The stairs we were on were on the back of the room. The central walkway was flanked by black towers that looked to have consoles like the ones upstairs. Opposite us and in the center of the front wall was a large monitor with a normally-sized Cabal door beneath it. "Starco," I ordered. "See if you can get that door opened and figure out what in the world went on here."

"Stargazer, give him a hand," Arla added. Charli remained quiet. The Ghosts materialized and went to opposite sides of the room, feverishly scanning the towers of equipment and gathering all the data they could. "What's the rush?" I asked.

"I know what was causing the data stream now. It wasn't outgoing, it was inbound to the server. It's a virus copying each file, sending the copies, and then deleting the originals."

"Sending it where?" I demanded. This situation had just become all the more important.

"I-I don't know. It's bouncing the outgoing signal all over the place in what looks like random receiving points. Some of the data streams end while other loop until they too reach some sort of end, like they are being deleted."

"Stargazer, can you focus on tracking the where?"

"On it!" Arla's Ghost confirmed almost immediately.

"Starco, pull what you can and find a way to get this door open."

"I'm giving it my best Maximus."

Nervous seconds ticked away as the streams of light that ushered forth from the pair of Ghosts oscillated in frequency, slowing down for a few seconds before speeding back up. All the while, Arla, Charli, and I kept flicking our attention from the door, to the stairs, to any place about the room as if expecting something to jump out at us any moment now. This room had no cover, so we were sitting ducks should something slide down the steps.

Suddenly, the Ghosts disappeared and a single thought replaced all others: RUN! I took a few tentative steps backward. "What happened?" I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls. As if in answer, the entire room filled with a flashing red light and a blaring alarm. "What did you do?"

"The virus detected me in the system and immediately started the self destruct sequence. We need to get out of here before the core detonates!" His voice was panicked. Starco was clearly worried about the situation.

Arla and Charli were quickly backpedaling from the server room and starting to move up the steps. "Max! We don't have time. Get moving!"

"Go!" I shouted to them. "I'm right behind you." I took a few steps to sell it before I took out my weapon. This virus wasn't getting any farther. I whipped out a scatter grenade and tossed it at the left side of the room while I whipped out Dea's rifle and began to spray the remaining servers with arc-infused bullets. An explosion suddenly rocked the floor just as I finished. "GET OUT OF HERE!" Starco shouted in my head. "I DIDN'T REVIVE YOU JUST TO DIE HERE!"

"Fine, fine…" I said. I tore my eyes away from the servers and blinked to the top of the stairs, beginning my sprint just as I touched the ground. Charli and Arla were just a couple dozen feet ahead of me. What had taken the best part of two hours to investigate was now flying by us in a blur that took only minutes to ascend. Explosions continued to rock the ground as we sprinted to the only exit we could knew of.

Slowly but surely, I was gaining on the other two. Either they were slowing down, or I was going faster, but neither prospect was very good. I couldn't carry them along with me nor was I going to just leave them behind. Another, much closer, explosion violently shook the ground beneath us, throwing Arla and Charli to the ground while throwing me stumbling to the point of nearly falling as well. I steadied myself and continued running, determining my path through the murky black by the momentary flashes of red light.

I was starting to see the outlines of multiple tanks as we approached the hangar, but suddenly my world spun around smashed into the metal ground. Trying to scramble to my feet, I struggled to get my right foot underneath me. Quickly glancing down at it, I realized that I had tripped on a dead Legionary. I tried to kick my foot out but then realized that its hand was actually grabbing my foot. The beast was alive after all and trying to take me down along with it! I tried to grab my rifle or the fusion rifle, but my precarious position on the ground only made it more difficult to grab them off my back. 'Wait a minute,' I thought.

I reached a hand behind my back, grabbed the butt of the yellow rifle, and stopped struggling. The Legionary's strong arm suddenly yanked my leg and shot me forward. Using the ground's friction and my momentum, I deactivated the magnetic locks on the rifle and let the ground slide it off my back for me. Just as I neared the beast's raised fist, I let out several bursts into its head. It rolled over dead, and with a couple powerful kicks of the leg, I was free. I hauled myself to my feet and slung the rifle back over my shoulder and secured it with the locks. I couldn't see Charli or Arla in the darkness, but I continued forward until I saw that the door we had entered from had suddenly closed. Another explosion rocked the entire building again, tossing us like ragdolls to the floor until the quakes subsided a few seconds later. This place was about to blow with us still inside of it. Whoever set that virus up clearly didn't want any witnesses escaping.

"I'm opening the door!" I shouted to Charli and Arla just as I entered the hangar.

"How?" Arla's shout echoed.

"Trust me!" I was already growing orbs in both of my hands, letting the energy surge through my being until it became an unquenchable fire. At this fever pitch, I leaped into the air and unleashed three massive balls of purple energy that exploded when they touched the door preventing our escape. Arla and Charli bolted through the hole without any second thought just as I touched the ground, still sprinting as fast as I could. I jumped and blinked forward another few yards, but this time I didn't touch the ground. Just as I hit the apex of my jump after the blink, an overwhelming force threw my feet in front of me and carried me up and out of the opened door.

I watched the Martian sand become smaller as I flew. It was then that I shut my eyes and refused to open them.


	9. Phase One

**Chapter 8**

 **Phase One**

 **Huntress Arla Nublier**

Arla and Charli charged through the hole Maximus created moments before the deafening roar of an explosion. The Titan was just to her left as they exited. Those quick seconds passed, and Arla knew that the explosion drew near, one she knew their shields and armor would not be able to take. Taking the one possible chance Arla could come up with in that split second, Arla dove forward just as the explosion's shock wave was about to reach them. Their scenery changed immediately, and their footing became nonexistent, the relatively flat plane near the base becoming the slant of a dune. The pair tumbled painfully against each other until they got to the very bottom. Arla's vision was swirling as she tried to fight off the dizziness. Somehow, the got to her knees and was trying to make sense of her spinning world. Within the spinning, Arla could see Charli on her hands and knees trying to fight off similar effects. "That was close," the Titan said between quick gasps of breath. "Thanks."

Purely out of chance, Arla looked up to see a dark shape blocking out any light coming from above them, debris from the explosion hurtling toward them. She tried to yell some sort of warning but found herself unable to speak, queasiness and breathlessness leaving her unable to do so. Charli was now sitting on her knees and looked up just in time to see the debris, a combination of stone, metal, and a tank.

In one fluid motion, Charli scooped herself off the ground, spinning once with her arms tucked close to her chest and then planting her foot into the ground while extending both her arms out to her sides. A purplish-blue translucent dome of energy ushered out of her hands and surrounded both of them just as the wave of debris hit. Arla looked at the Titan's arms, arcs of blue and purple electricity streaked up and down both her arms as well as an ebbing purple light that seemed to surround her like an aura. Each piece of debris violently slammed against the shield, blue cracks spreading out from each impact. Arla flinched and shut her eyes with each impact, waiting for something to break through and make them only grease spots in the sand. Last but certainly not least, a tank smashed down on the dome, shattering it without much effort. In that same instant, the cracks simultaneously detonated in a blinding explosion of light blue.

When Arla opened her eyes, the world had stopped spinning, and the entire area of sand was flat, save for a distant wall of sand and debris that was at least a couple hundred yards away. The field was gone, but Charli was still standing, arms back to normal, her body heaving with labored breaths for a moment before she collapsed on one knee.

Arla was speechless. She'd seen a Ward of Dawn before, the purple dome, but she had never seen one crack and then explode, not to mention said explosion clearing the immediate area. Now she was speechless for an altogether different reason. Both of them were silent for several seconds as Arla could only stare at the Titan. Charli slowly turned her head over her shoulder, likely looking at Arla through her helmet. "Before you ask," she said, her voice clearly exhausted. "I have no idea what just happened."

Arla was finally able to get her tongue to respond. "I-I don't know either. Whatever it was, that was impressive." Arla stood up and looked around, noticing Maximus was not present. "Where's Maximus?"

Charli stood up as well, looking around as well. "Just before you tackled me, I saw Maximus fly over us in that direction." Just then, Arla saw a marker on her helmet labeled "Maximus." Charli continued. "My Ghost just picked up a message from Starco saying that Maximus is fine and return to the ship."

"That's ridiculous," Arla stated. "We're heading over there."

"Well, I'm heading back to the ship because my nose is bleeding pretty badly," Charli asserted.

Stargazer inserted her opinion. "We also need to get this data back onto the ship. If Starco says Maximus is fine, then I'm sure he'll be joining us in a minute."

Arla stared at the marker on her HUD until Stargazer removed it. She swallowed her instinct. "Fine," she muttered. "Call the ship, but send a message to Starco to get Maximus' butt in space."

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

I woke up to darkness and an echoing pain pulsing throughout my body. Somehow I was alive. I moaned as I put my hands underneath me and tried to push up. The pain magnified itself as I did, my vision blackening with its intensity, but with one final push, I had successfully rolled over onto my back. Embracing the pain, I sat up and placed a sore hand on my head. "That hurt," I muttered.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Starco replied as he flashed into existence about a foot from my face. "It's a good thing you hit the downward slope of a dune, otherwise you'd probably be in a thousand pieces."

"I feel like I ought to be," I replied, willing myself to ignore the pain while trying to remember what just happened. I remembered the Nova Bomb, Charli and Arla rushing through, and then getting sent in the air, but anything beyond that was completely blank.

"Falling from that height would have if it wasn't for those shields on your suit. They absorbed a very large portion of the damage before collapsing. I will admit though, you had me worried. You were on death's door for about the first half hour or so."

I was still trying to wrap my head around what happened, fight through the pain until it subsided. When? I did not know. "How long have I been out?"

"A couple hours." I opened my mouth to speak, but Starco immediately interrupted me. "Before you ask if Arla and Charli know, I already told them. Sent them a rendezvous point in the atmosphere. They didn't like it, but they eventually agreed to it. The ship should be in the next minute or so."

"We're lucky," I admitted though somewhat quietly.

"Why is that?"

"Some people don't have a team that cares for the other members. Some don't even have one at all. While ours may not necessarily be voluntary, I like to think I would have been in one of my own volition." I looked up at the Martian sunset and could make out a light green shape sweeping down through the atmosphere in our direction.

"I hear that."

"Have you told the Vanguard about what happened here?"

"Not yet. I figured that you, Arla, or Charli would like to do the honors. After all, this was supposed to be a relatively easy exercise that gave you a good gauge of where Charli is on the battlefield."

"To be honest, I wasn't necessarily paying attention to that."

"Don't worry, I did, and I will say that she handled herself quite well. I do have one concern about her stamina though."

"So they _were_ getting slower!" The ship was clearly slowing down its speed and descent to allow me to climb aboard.

"Yeah. Arla slowed down to make sure she didn't fall, but I will say she is carrying a significant amount of armor and equipment on her. From what I know about pilots, they generally wear little more than a flight suit and light protective plating, and that's from now. I can imagine that it was similar back then, perhaps a little less."

I tried to stand up. My left leg immediately buckled and sent me crashing into the grainy sand. The _Soul_ parked a few yards above my head and lowered the ramp. Trying again and putting more weight on my right leg, I was able to stand up and limp onto the metal ramp. "Starco, you mind flying? I'm going to check on my leg in the room."

"You got it. Be careful." I waited patiently as the ramp began to glide upward and inward until it clicked solidly into place. The ship's systems immediately kicked in and set the atmosphere just like that of Earth. With the atmosphere stabilized, I shed all of my armor except for the pants and grabbed my tools from a drawer located near the bed. The tools inside the bag clanked as I gently tossed it onto the bed and laid down on the bed. Rather than trying to fix my leg, I shut my eyes and tried to imagine what or who was behind what happened in the Cabal base.

My thoughts first turned to Heksis. The carnage inside looked just like something he would do with his pair of customized Fallen blades. Arla denies that, but he was my primary suspect as I could not possibly think of what else could cause slices as deep and clean other than a Hunter's knife. A singular Guardian couldn't do that though. For one, that base was crawling with living Cabal not too long ago which meant that whoever did this had to have come here between the time Charli and I left and now. That could be anyone really, but how many actually knew the coordinates of this place? Destroying the base was a necessary action, but it wasn't the most immediate concern for the Vanguard, that would belong to toppling the Cabal leadership.

Back to the Guardian thing though, any one of them worth their salt would shoot rather than melee their way through a wave of enemies, especially when the Cabal were more than capable of destroying us in close quarters. Practically all of the holes punched through the Cabal were not the result of a gun.

Let's see...swords, cqc, ransacked and raided base. Sounded like pirates, but could it be the Fallen? Even if it was, that would mean that a group of Captains and Vandals. I pictured a squadron of those sneaking their way into the base, hiding from the shadows and killing at the nearest opportunity. I could see a single Vandal sneaking up on those guards at the top, backstabbing one and then dealing with the other immediately after. Vandals and Captains were certainly much more nimble than any of the Cabal, with the exception of the Psion, but could they take out an entire base without a single casualty? If they could, what House would possibly be willing enough to take that chance? These were the questions plaguing my mind.

Starco's voice suddenly aroused me from my contemplative stupor. "What?" I responded as soon as I recognized that he had spoken to me.

"I said, 'Arla and Charli want to talk to you.' Here." A black device as long as my little finger flashed onto the bed. I sat up and placed the device where my left auditory sensor was. "How's the leg?" the Ghost called back.

"It's, uh, fine."

"You haven't begun fixing it yet have you?" I opened my mouth to speak but stopped short. "Remember, I know your thoughts," he warned. "I think it's a logical hypothesis though, given what we found."

"Which was…" I prodded.

"I'll tell you in a minute. Focus on fixing that leg of yours."

"Fine," I mumbled and peeled back the leg armor to just above the knee. There were a few pieces of metal in my knee that had broken off of their attach points and seemed to be messing with the servomechanism at the knee joint as well. I turned on the headset and set to work.

There was only static for a moment until Starco patched me through. Once I was sure I was in, I said, "What's up?"

Immediately, Arla went off. "I watch you explode, fly through the air, and disappear out of sight, and all you can say is 'What's up?'" Her voice was a mix of anger and worry, mostly the latter.

I tried to find a witty way to respond, not to make her angrier, but maybe lighten the mood before Starco starts going into what he found. If he didn't want to tell me one on one, then that probably meant it was important and likely disturbing in some way. "Well, I could've said 'what's down' but then you would have just been so confused."

Arla sighed audibly. "I seriously don't understand you every now and again. Death, especially after what you pulled earlier, is not something you should be joking about."

"As far as I know," I responded. "I didn't die. Just woke up extremely sore with some slight damage to my leg."

"What kind of damage?" Arla intensely inquired.

"Just some things popped out of place during the landing. Nothing major. I'm fixing it as we speak."

Arla surrendered her anger. "Fine, but when you have a gaping hole in your chest and call it 'just a scratch' I may revive you just to kill you myself."

"Ah, but where would the honor be?" I teased.

"I can sleep easily knowing I killed off a liar." I could almost hear the smirk on her face.

I knew she wouldn't do it, and I certainly was not about to get a hole ripped in my chest, but that was one angle I had not considered. Ultimately, I decided to drop the jokes. "You there Charli?" I asked lightheartedly, noticing that she hadn't said a word yet.

It sounded like I woke her up from her own stupor much as Starco did to me. "Hmm…? Yeah, yeah. I'm here. Just trying to wrap my head around what could have caused all that."

"Same here," Arla and I said in accidental unison, prompting a short laugh from all three of us.

"So I'm going out on a limb and saying that a Guardian did not do that. All credit to you guys, I know you're good, but I don't think you can literally take on an entire army without any guns."

"Ok, so I'm not the only one who noticed the lack of bullet holes and plasma burns," Arla responded.

"I saw it too," I added. "And that was not any Guardian I could think of."

"Not even that Heksis fellow one of you mentioned?" Charli's voice was inquisitive but also cautious. She must have sensed that may be a touchy point given Arla's response earlier.

Arla jumped on the opportunity. "There's no way that was Hek. He could've done it, taken on an army alone like any of us could, but he wouldn't do it with just his swords. He's good, but even he would struggle against that many Cabal."

"Would he have had a way to isolate them? Take 'em on one by one. Sounds a lot easier that way."

"I don't think the Cabal would be courteous enough to stand in a line while he hacked them to pieces," Arla answered.

"Point taken," Charli responded.

I decided that now was the time to interject my theory. "I have an idea," I announced, bending my knee to make sure my repairs thus far weren't screwing anything up. The lights in the room were turned up all the way, but pieces of my knee cast shadows where I needed to work, making some aspects of my work a little more difficult than I would like. "A half-baked theory really, but hear me out."

There was a moment of silence over the comms, probably Arla giving Charli a look that I couldn't see. "We're listening," Charli eventually said. "A half-baked theory is better than nothing."

"I think this was the Fallen. Think about it. The place looked like it had been raided without any regard for life, just for intel and resources. To me, that sounds like piracy, and the largest pirate threat we have in our solar system is the Fallen. They have the motive and, frankly, the numbers."

Arla jumped in. "But what about the lack of plasma burns? The Fallen would attack from range rather than get up close and personal with their victims unless they're forced to."

"Remember how our Ghosts said that there was a virus copying, sending, and deleting files?"

"Yeah."

"I think its because this House is a little more discreet than the others. More skilled with blades than ranged combat. Good at lurking in the shadows and hiding in plain sight. Charli, Arla, to my knowledge this was the first coordinated attack of the House of Illusion."

Charli gasped like she knew who we were talking about. "They're dead! The Fallen killed them off centuries ago. This must be some derivative or copycat clan. Have you considered that this may be something you're yet to face?"

"I gave that some thought, and I haven't stopped considering it. Arla and I have had a couple of run-ins with them in the last several months. Each of those was just one agent. This was an entire squad, a shadow that infiltrated its enemy without it even knowing and killed it from the inside. They probably replaced the leader with their captain, and none of them knew the difference."

Both the Titan and Huntress were quiet for several seconds. In that time, I finished the repairs on my knee and started packing the tools back in the bag. I exited the room and began picking up my armor pieces from the floor in the fuselage. Arla responded first and taking that time to mull it over. "Sounds a little more than half-baked," she commented.

"Agreed. Honestly though, I want to see what is on the Ghosts. Maybe something they found can confirm our suspicions."

I stooped to the ground and pulled my arms through my robe, fastening the appropriate latches and making sure the collar was uniform around my neck. I still ached, especially in that one knee, but time was not something we had in excess if my hypothesis was right. I sure hope it isn't.

I took off the device Starco gave me and tossed it to him, the Ghost despawning it in about the same instant someone would catch it. On the ship's HUD I saw Arla sitting in the chair of her ship as well as Charli sitting in the seat of my old ship, an old ARCADIA that I had used to escape the Cosmodrome shortly after Starco revived me. Looking past that, I could see Arla's brand new ship, a purple Kestrel with gold stripes and trim, an elegant piece of spacefaring art. I sat down in my chair and nodded to both of them. I turned my eyes to my old ship. It felt odd to see it from the cockpit of another ship, almost like I was betraying it, but I didn't need two ships in truth, and Charli had none ready by the time we needed to leave. Maybe Arla and I could pull a few favors back at the Tower. "We ready?" I asked.

"No time to lose," Charli said. She was certainly right.

I started the discussion off. "Starco, Stargazer, do we have a definite who?"

It was Stargazer that spoke first. "I tried tracing the signal, but the encryption was too strong and had results literally just bouncing off into deep space with no intended target. Other signals were bounced all over the solar system, pinging off of other bases' comm centers, including several in the City and surrounding beacons before disappearing completely."

"Wouldn't that mean that someone in the City would have picked up the data signal?"

"The only problem with that is the signal also carried a modified version of the same virus, an advanced form of a trojan that activated whenever someone tried to access the system. If someone was able to harness the signal and start saving the files that was not on the designated list, the virus would immediately set to work destroying that network until nothing remained, much like the one we encountered. At the same time, the signal also deleted itself from any manifest besides the one in that server room. It's almost like whoever sent it wanted its target to only have a split second opportunity to have the intel before they missed the opportunity."

"Any idea why they would jump it like this?" Charli asked.

"Simple. Not to get caught. Bounce the signal enough times in different directions and the trace begins to lose ground which is ultimately what happened to me. I tried tracking each bounce but only found myself on a wild goose chase. It was then that I realized that I had been looking in the wrong place. I remembered that there had been one destination that I had immediately ruled out purely because it seemed obviously wrong at the time. I don't remember the exact coordinates, but I do remember that it was moving. If it was indeed the Fallen as you said Maximus, then it could have been their Ketch or a Skiff. At the same time, it could have been any other spacecraft."

I placed a finger on my temple. "So we don't have a where?"

"Afraid not, but that was only my side of things. I'd venture to say Starco found something with his digging."

Starco floated forward by my head, taking a position about a foot to my right and slightly in front of my face. "In fact, I did find some rather interesting things." Several files appeared on my HUD as well as on the others. As Starco talked, he opened and closed them as exemplar pieces of data, visual aids while he spoke. "A lot of the data was deleted or in the process. To avoid having it spread to my memory, I had to avoid a substantial number of partially intact…"

"So what did you find?" Charli interrupted.

"Most of what remained was logs, scouting and intelligence reports to be specific. Several of them caught my eye because they made one fact abundantly clear: the Cabal had hacked a nearby Fallen House on Mars."

"What House?" Arla asked, intrigued.

"I couldn't make sense of the symbols on the map." He pulled up a literal map of the facility we just investigated and escaped from. "This was downloaded a couple weeks ago from a Fallen server aboard a completely black Ketch that wandered too close to a Cabal communication satellite that began hacking through the firewalls in place. Apparently whatever House this was had been planning to take over this base and use it for their own purposes. The hack had just accelerated the process"

"So what stopped them?" I asked. "Did they bail when they detected our ships?"

"I think that may have something to do with it yes, but at a different time. I'd venture to say that you finding Charli gave our Fallen friends the perfect opportunity to get in because an unidentified squad identical to the one we fought entered the base five minutes after we left. That's just a hypothesis, but the evidence points to this being the Fallen."

"So then how did all those Cabal end up the way they did?"

"Once more, I think your hypothesis is becoming fact. Several Cabal bodies were logged in the incinerator shortly after the mystery squadron turned up, one of them being recognized as Valus

Tre'Lon, but the base's internal logs show his credentials being used since his death, namely to gain access to the server room via an elevator once he could use. That's what was behind the door I believe. Or at least at some point beyond that door."

"So are you saying that there is a dead House on the march?"

"One with the capabilities of causing destruction far beyond what we're willing to admit they're capable of."

"Why do you say that?" Arla questioned.

Starco brought up several files that divided the HUD in two. The ones on the left was a string of white pages with numbers written across the top seemingly at random. On the right was a singular file: a perfect map of the City. I wandered my eyes back over to the string of files. Starco opened the bottom one labeled with the lowest number at the top. In the file was a picture of a blue Exo with piercing yellow eyes. The name just to the right of the photo: **Maximus.**

Starco opened the one right on top of it that revealed an Awoken woman with brown hair and glowing green eyes. The name in the same place as the first: **Arla Nublier.**

I sat back silently in my chair as I watched both Arla and Charli gasp in abject horror, their eyes going as big as saucers. They _had_ been watching.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **The Queen's Private Chambers, Royal Palace, The City**

"It is so nice of you to join me my dear Speaker," The Queen of the City called out as a Guardian dressed in white armor from head to toe entered her chambers. He was taller than she and much more intimidating, but he, in essence, was a soldier like those he advised and the guards she kept here. The room was bathed in natural light from the elegantly crafted glass ceiling and similar windows draped in a translucent white curtain. The Queen herself was a rather petite figure, much more attuned to politics than anything else. She was a master of words, able to weave arguments that many found hard to dispute. Of course, those who argued against her policies were not the man that stood before her, her equal in almost every sense of the word save for one glaring exception.

The Queen sat at an expertly crafted table made of cedar, a rarity nowadays, in the center of her lavish chambers. No expense was spared in terms of the carpets and other furnishings. She had essentially two armies at her disposal, her own and the New Monarchy followers in the Tower. Two pairs of ornate doors adorned the right side of the room and then at the back. The former leading to the corridor where the Speaker had just entered from, and the other to her sleeping chambers. A guard was stationed at each side of the door outside of the room itself.

The Speaker came unarmed, but his white helmet remained as always, covered in some fashion of a black wrap that looked to only further seal his identity. The armor he wore looked much like the garb of a politician but harder, tougher, as if he were ready to go to the field if he desired it. Obviously, he was years out of practice but still...To her, this man was an enigma, their agendas both similar and dissimilar. Both strived for a unified City, but he wasn't much one for the people, electing to stay in his observatory in that Tower of his as opposed to making public appearances. By comparison, the Queen wore a dress bathed in the red and whites cherished by her followers, the primarily red material emblazoned by a white sash stretching from her left shoulder to the right of her hip, her face visible to all the moment they saw her.

He spoke with a smooth British accent that commanded respect but also retained a polite wisdom about it. "I hope you pardon my tardiness. There were a few matters I had to attend to first. Not to say that you are unimportant, but you understand…" His words sounded slightly awkward compared to their previous meetings, nervous, like he was hiding something.

The Queen decided to play it off and use her words to make him unintentionally divulge this secret. "I understand completely my dear Speaker. Maintaining a rather unique army I can imagine is rather...tedious."

"I wouldn't call it that, but it certainly has its struggles every now and again."

The Queen sensed that she may be getting somewhere much quicker than she had imagined. However, it sparked her suspicion. "Like what?"

"Well, the same ones that you deal with really."

The Queen smiled. "Humor me then for a moment and explain anyway," she requested politely.  
"No two situations are exactly identical."

"Indeed. Just trying to maintain our public image and still defend this fine City at the same time. Unfortunately, I believe we may have to add another front soon enough."

The Queen noticed that he was yet to sit down. She gestured to a chair across from her. "Then by all means, take a seat. Don't tire yourself needlessly."

"Thank you your Highness." He pulled the indicated chair back and sat down, placing an arm on the table and looking through the glass ceiling.

The Queen waited for him to turn his attention back to her before she spoke again. Once he turned back to her, she said, "Please just call me Miranda. There's no need to be so formal here. We speak as equals here."

"If it's alright with you, I'd rather retain my name. Brings back too many memories."

"I see. I thought you buried your past long ago."

The Speaker shook his head. "It's really just a precautionary thing."

"Do you not trust me?"

"Please don't mistake my motives for mistrust. It's that if some people knew who I was, I fear that some things we discuss would leak out."

"I assure you that our conversations are one hundred percent confidential. You can trust me on this. Have we not known each other for years?"

"The last time I trusted someone fully, I lost nearly an entire fireteam of my most powerful Guardians."

"That is unfortunate to hear, but we must remember our past so we don't repeat it, right. Let's get working on a better tomorrow right now shall we?"

The Speaker nodded and scooted his chair closer to the table. "Indeed. So how is the City doing these days?"

"We've definitely seen better days, but not many. Ever since those two Guardians returned, the sun has seemed a bit brighter, the people happier. Our economy is thriving beyond what anybody predicted this year."

"Quite the turnaround from when we met right after the Wall incident."

"Yes, those were some dark times, but as I said earlier. We learn from the past. I presume that our agreement is still working."

"I have patrols outside the Wall at all hours of the day just as we discussed. Any Fallen activity out there has been dealt with. In truth, it's been rather quiet there the last couple weeks."

"So how about beyond the Wall. How are things out there?"

"The Vex are still out there despite the Garden being destroyed, but I believe there numbers will wane as time passes. The Hive have been rather dormant since we talked last. We still run across them, but they're not as active as they usually are. The Fallen are up to their usual pirate antics across everywhere except Mars, but it's the Cabal that concerns me the most."

"Why is that?"

"They're mobilizing at an unprecedented rate. I'm not sure why, but something has them riled up."

"Do they look like preparations to invade?"

"Not exactly. My patrols have reported heavier fortification on Mars. More tanks, troops, and supplies. To me it looks like they're playing the defensive. Against what? I'm not sure. The Vex were there biggest rival other than us, and their numbers have only thinned in the Meridian Bay area."

"That is odd. Is it possible that they are going to move in the Black Garden? Maybe find and utilize some of the Vex secrets hidden there?"

"It's plausible. The door never sealed after Maximus and Arla killed the Heart. We'll have to see I guess. Times are certainly changing."

The Queen smiled again. "As they always are. So how are my favorite Guardians doing? I'd love to have Arla and Maximus over to the palace again."

"Ah yes. I believe they're wrapping up a mission the Vanguard sent them on. Investigating a Cabal base not far from Olympus Mons. They haven't sent a report yet, but I can keep you informed when they do." The Queen seemed to flinch slightly at the mention of a base near Olympus Mons. Like it meant something to her.

"Ah yes. Please do. I don't mean to sound rude Speaker, but I just realized that I have some matters to attend to. Would you mind continuing this meeting at a later date?"

"Of course not. You're a busy woman. Would you mind meeting in the Tower next time? I have some people I'd like you to meet."

"I'll make the necessary preparations. Until we meet again," the Queen responded, eyeing the door. The Speaker walked towards the door leading to the hallway but stopped short of opening it. "Something wrong?" she asked earnestly.

"You almost fooled me Miranda," the Speaker stated flatly. "I admit it. I fell for your little game this time around."

"What game could you possibly be talking about?" The Queen flicked her eyes from the door, to a corner in the room, and then back to the Speaker.

"You put two sets of Guardians to protect the room rather than just the set I brought with me. Did something happen to Kenny?"

"Who?" the Queen asked, confused.

"Kenny Lambert. Your head of security."

The Queen tried to deflect the conversation. "Ah yes, Kenny. Sorry, I didn't know which one you were referring to."

The Speaker gave a grim chuckle. "Typical. You think that you're perfect, above all of the others, but your tactics are imperfect."

The Queen stood and and stared at the Speaker, flabbergasted by his comment. "I'd hardly call myself above anybody. I'm grateful just to be in this position." She flicked her eyes in that same pattern of the door, the corner, and the Speaker again. "If you're going to accuse me of being a pompous braggart, then by all means say it to my face. I assure you, I've heard much worse."

The Speaker turned toward Miranda. "You of all people would know your head of security. His name is not Kenny. Rather it is Stuart Heinz, and that he has saved your life no less than three times. You would know this if you truly are the Queen." The Queen flickered her eyes in that pattern again, much more urgently this time. "I see that look in your eye, that pattern you just did. You're calling for your assassins. I assure you. They won't prevail." Suddenly, the Speaker spun around and deflected a blade that was sure to run straight through his chest. He then immediately, parried another swipe from a once-invisible form on his left. Two Vandals dressed in deep green now surrounded one of the most powerful Guardians.

Not wasting any time, the Vandals launched a flurry of swipes, trying to kill this one man, but the Speaker was much more agile than his rust would have let on. He used his gauntlets to block any attack that he was unable to evade. Otherwise, he easily sidestepped or rolled out of harm's way. Slowly but surely, the Vandals were backing him into one of the corners of the room while the Queen watched on in silence, watching the two Fallen slowly kill their prey. Suddenly, the Speaker grabbed hold of a Vandal's hand and twisted the blade out, the horrific sound of bone breaking accompanying the theft. The Speaker quickly put a boot in its face and fended off another attack from its partner before putting a single stab through one of his assailant's heart.

Swords clashed, slashed, blocked, and parried for several seconds as the remaining Vandal attempted to get another advantage over the Guardian, but the Speaker took every opportunity it gave him, exposed every hole in his defense until he locked swords with the Vandal. Having two blades compared to his opponent, the Vandal raised its free hand to bring one final blow to its target. The Speaker suddenly surged forward, throwing the Vandal off balance enough so that he could deflect the blade with his arm, spin, and thrust his own blade through the bottom of the Vandal's mask.

Just as the Speaker did this, two blades stabbed through his own chest from behind. He dropped his stolen blade and silently watched blood begin to pour from the wounds, the flow increasing as the "Queen," now directly behind him, withdrew her weapons.

She began to speak in a Fallen tongue, unique to this House, her House, the one that would rule all others. "Your deed is done Commander. My cover is still intact." Pleased laughter came from the other side of the room. A heavily armored Fallen with dark green armor similar to a Captain's but stronger and more agile looking materialized out of the far corner closest to the bedroom doors.

"That is very good Vulkra. I am pleased with your victory. I expected nothing less from my first female Captain."

Vulkra, disguised as the Queen, looked down at the two Vandal's bodies. Such talent lost because of their caution. In the old days, none would have stood for how long it took them. In the time that they waited, the Speaker could have been killed several times over. "I apologize for my troop's insolence Commander. They nearly jeopardized the mission," the female Captain stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

The Commander looked over at the two bodies with a displeased look wrought upon his face. "They met a deserving fate. There is time for caution and then there is time to take action. These two obviously did not know the difference." He placed an armored hand on Vulkra's shoulder and looked her dead in the eyes, lowering his voice as he spoke. "You almost blew it as well, but your success atones for it, so all is forgiven. My only requirement is that you don't let it happen again."

"Yes sir. What's our next move?"

The Commander held up a hand and withdrew a cylindrical device out of a pouch on his waist. The device was small with a needle at one end that protruded rather awkwardly. It was silver in color and just larger than the Commander's hand. "My next move is to become one with the Great Machine, just as our ancestors did," the Commander said as he squatted over the Speaker's body and pushed the needle into the corpse's neck. A piece of metal pushed up and out of the top as the Commander drove the needle ever deeper into the Speaker's neck. When its deed was done, the device gave off a small beep. "Ah yes," the Commander laughed. "The wonderful sound of a perfect disguise." He held the device upside down and tapped it with each of his three remaining hands and attached the end of it into a small area on his neck, pushing down the metal until it disappeared back into the device. Almost immediately after he began pushing, his form began to flicker, morph. In a matter of seconds, a perfect rendering of the Speaker stood in front of the "Queen." Dispose of the body. Then, continue building your cover. Learn the names of the allies and don't jeopardize yourself. The last thing we want is a repeat of what happened on Mars.

Yes, sir, the Captain affirmed, walking out of the room and down the hallway where more of their troops were hidden in plain sight.

He kicked the Speaker's corpse and uncovered a small spiky form with a glowing blue eye. He picked it up and delivered a steady stream of electricity from his fingertips into it, rendering it paralyzed. The Ghost of perhaps the most powerful Guardian who ever lived. I wonder what secrets you hold. The Commander grabbed his device again and stabbed it directly into the eye of the Ghost, downloading all of its data before crushing it in his hand and sprinkling the pieces on the Speaker's body. Moments later, Vulkra returned with a pair of disguised soldiers and began preparations to get rid of the body for good.

Stage One was complete.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Wazzup! It's the SFR again.

Once again, just adding a note here at the end that Heksis is not a character that I own or have come up with personally. He is one that my good friend PegLegDregsNeedTheirMeds (a mouthful I know). He is a character that I plan to have recur over the course of this story and want to give credit where credit is due because I am explicitly using a character that I do not "control" or "own." Check out my buddy's stuff if you would like, but I will warn you that some of the things that will happen later will lose their impact by seeing Heksis through the scope of his creator.

I know, cheesy plug, but by all means he does good work over there. So show some love if you feel so inclined. Tell him I sent ya ;)

Thanks for the support once again!

Peace!


	10. Message

**Chapter 9**

 **Message**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

 **3 days later...**

Ikora paced at the back of the room. Of the three Vanguard present, she was the only one out of her seat. Cayde was leisurely leaned back in his chair, and Zavala was hunched forward rubbing his temples. His eyes still closed, Zavala asked, "Are you sure this data is not counterfeit? That this actually was in a Fallen database at some point? Because we can't just break this news and not expect panic to ensue."

"You know the implications right?" Cayde added. "I'm not the Speaker, but I'm fairly certain that we don't want to put around 14 million people in panic mode because of an enemy they can't see."

I stood in front of them with a holographic projection of Starco and Stargazer's findings beamed up from the small disc. Currently, Starco was displaying the files with names and the map of the City, complete with insertion points and areas crucial to the success of the mission. Arla nor Charli were here mainly because the former was giving a little field training to the latter due to the lack of "combat simulation" from our expedition on Mars. I was about to join them when the Vanguard called me to this meeting. I answered Cayde's question. "I thought long and hard on this data and could only come up with only a few plausible solutions, only one of which actually made sense. The Fallen are trying to get into the City again, a little more discreetly this time."

Zavala opened his eyes and looked at me. "How would they get in though? Anyone on the Wall has orders to shoot any Fallen on sight and ask questions later."

"I have a hypothesis."

"Ooh, this ought to be good," Cayde sarcastically commented. He leaned even deeper into his chair, crossing his legs on top of the table, and leaned his head on his hands clasped behind it.

"I think the House of Illusion may be back." Ikora and the other Vanguard froze, a stunned silence ensuing. The Vanguard knew exactly what I was talking about. "I know they're supposed to be dead, but Arla and I have run across their agents several times since I became a Guardian. Given the limited amount of data we have on them, I have to raise the question: What if they never actually died out?"

Ikora, after several seconds, broke the ice that had gripped the room. "Let's not make any hasty assumptions Maximus. For all we know, this could have been data from the failed invasion. There's also no official House marker. The writing is clearly Fallen, but they have no way of actually getting into the City, not without getting shot first."

"That's because the Illusion are not normal Fallen. They can disguise themselves as almost any living being. They'll come in as Guardians coming back from patrol or survivors from beyond the Wall seeking refuge. They'll find ways to exploit us and literally kill us from the inside out."

Zavala held up a hand and spoke. "In all the reports we have on this long-dead House, I have never heard of them taking the form of a Guardian. Even if they could, they wouldn't be able to mimic the light that emanates off of one. They are controlled by the Darkness, and that becomes a permanent scar on someone, you've met Eris Morn. One cannot just stare into the Darkness and come back unscathed."

"Isn't that what I did in the Garden? Does that not buy me any credibility here?"

Ikora stepped forward. "I'm afraid it doesn't." I threw my arms out and then dropped them at my sides. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What you did in the Black Garden exemplified everything we stand for, but it was on Mars, not in our City. We can't just go public and say that a forgotten Fallen House has infiltrated the City and can be anyone within it. That will incite chaos, and neither the Speaker or the Queen will have any of that going on in their City. We can't afford another meltdown like we nearly had when that piece of the Wall came down. There's no way we can let the public know that they may be in grave danger once again."

"So you do believe me?"

"I'm merely humoring the thought. I honestly find any consideration that the Fallen could get into the City preposterous. The Traveler would never allow such a thing to happen."

Cayde was the next to speak up. "So, Maximus, if our smelly, four-armed friends are actually trying to get into the City this way, what do you suggest we do about it?"

I had planned this out. I was nowhere near a politician, so my plan was crude, but it would serve its purpose. "Close the borders and don't let anyone in. I'm fairly certain the Illusion can't carry much of their form's memory, so any Guardians that come in and out would need to have their person cross-referenced with data we have here at the Tower and imprison any who don't meet the standards."

"We can't just lock up Guardians for forgetting something about their past," Ikora interjected. This meeting was going about as well as it had in my head. It had taken a few turns that I hadn't expected, but I really thought that at least one of them would be on my side here.

"What happened to sacrificing the needs of the few to save the many?" I implored.

"That does not apply to our discussion! As far as I can see," Zavala stated with a slightly raised voice. "You walked into a destroyed Cabal base that looked like the handiwork of a Guardian or a Fallen raiding party. There is no evidence to suggest what House did it, and we certainly cannot say that a House that has been dead for a least a couple centuries is behind it. If the Illusion are back, I want evidence."

"By then it will be too late!" I retorted.

"If you find one within the City, yes, but they have to be somewhere else before they're in the City, so if what you say is true, then you may want to start looking. We'll gladly give you access to anything you need, just don't expect us to get involved. We're in a war with the Cabal, one that we will lose if we are not at least two steps ahead of our enemy."

"It sounds like you're denying a threat that has the potential to destroy us."

"We're not denying it exists!" Ikora snapped, calming herself immediately after. "We just can't incite a mass panic over something that may or may not exist. If we alerted the public that a Fallen House with the capablilites of diguising themselves as literally anybody had infiltrated the City, the last SAFE place on Earth, perhaps the Milky Way and beyond, this could become quite literally the end of the world as we know it. This would either incite mass panic or nobody would believe us, neither of which we can necessarily afford because the moment we cry 'Wolf!' should this House of Illusion be an actual entity we open ourselves to criticism because we're going to have to operate directly in the City."

Zavala shifted in his seat. "My money's on mass panic. Most people trust us at the moment, so I think that we may have a Civil War of proportions much like the one between the Factions."

"So," I began to respond. "You're saying that it becomes peace at the cost of lives or lives at the cost of peace? The way I see things, you're going to lose lives either way. The Illusion are coming if they're not already here." A thought hit me. "For all I know, each one of you could be one of them, refuting my claims because I've found out your secret." I slowly reached a hand and fingered the pistol I had holstered at my back.

Ikora stood abruptly. "Maximus! Don't be absurd! You're caught up in the moment and not thinking clearly. There is no conspiracy here, and you know it. If one of their agents could mimic us, the Speaker would detect it immediately. Quit your nonsense and leave if you have no other evidence to show us."

I forced myself to swallow my protests. They weren't about to heed anything I said, and that really got on my nerves. Could this denial be connected to my not being transparent about the Black Garden, about Dea? That can't possibly be a correlation. The Vanguard were human, with the notable exception of Cayde, but they wouldn't hold a grudge that could kill thousands. "I understand," I said solemnly. "Could you at least let the Speaker know of this possible threat? Whether or not it really exists."

Ikora and Zavala looked at each other uneasily, but it was Cayde that spoke up. "I needed to talk to the old man anyways, so I'll run it by him when I do. Heck, just because I'm curious, I'll take a copy of this stuff to the Cryptarch." Cayde winked at the end of that.

I nodded and exited the room without another word. I exited the inner part of the Tower and walked to the plaza, leaning against the railing and trying to think through the situation. The City was bustling even at this time in the evening. Various modes of transportation flitted about in the distance, their lights largely masked by the aura coming from the City. Faint but noticeable was a recent addition to the sky: the Traveler had a slight glow around its edge, a bit of light radiating off of it for the first time in what I understand has been at least a couple centuries.

My mind wasn't much on the natural and artificial beauty of the City though. I couldn't believe that they didn't want to even consider the possibility of a Fallen invasion basically because of a PR problem. I understand how it could cost them some popularity, but when you're protecting the masses, don't some things have to be given up? The Fallen had shown they could invade the City once and nearly win. Then there was the series of tunnels that showed they had been operating near the City. That should have been evidence enough to say that they were at it again. If I brought them the evidence I knew they desired, then that would mean I found one in the City, where that meant there were many more of them. Finding one outside of the City merely proved there existence, and while I may have limited experience with them, I could tell these were smarter than regular Fallen, they wouldn't make themselves obvious. That said, What could their end goal be though? World domination? Well, there was really only one place they didn't have any grip on, so that wasn't out of the question, but it seemed a bit cliche for the Fallen, especially ones that looked to be far more advanced than their brethren.

I then turned thoughts to Cayde's wink at the end of the conversation. He and I certainly were not on the worst of terms, but I wasn't on his best either, that was saved for successful Hunters like Arla. Was that wink to me or to either Ikora or Zavala? A sign of belief to me or acknowledging a required gag? I began to run through what had happened over and over again, trying to pick up on some hint from one of the others. I ran through it once, twice, thrice, even a fourth time, but I could not pick up on anything from Ikora or Zavala that would suggest Starco's data needed to be deleted, that his taking it to the Speaker and the Cryptarch was anything less than genuine. Perhaps I was overthinking this, maybe Cayde...I threw that idea out of my mind. There was no way he would manipulate the Vanguard and me so that he could get his hands on the data "off the grid" was there. Starco and I still had the files, but my ghost had sent Cayde's a copy to "satisfy his curiosity," which meant that neither of the others had it because they dismissed it completely

Before I got too far along a road steeped with conspiracy theories, I snapped myself out of my thoughts and looked back out over the City. Night had clearly fallen and a half-illuminated moon lit part of the sky, the battle scars almost highlighted by its invisible and much less damaged other half. The aura around the Traveler had not wavered nor had it grown any stronger, but the City's had only grown stronger, harsher and a little less reassuring than it had been in the past.

Still leaning forward on the railing, I looked behind me at the Plaza, empty as expected. The postmaster and special orders clerk were still at their stations as usual, but Banshee the Gunsmith and Master Rahool were not at their stands, probably in bed like I ought to be. I didn't feel like sleeping. I had waited three days for a meeting that lasted a little over an hour and a half and left me with more question than answers as well as almost no backing from the Vanguard. I get that it was an odd hunch and even more off-the-wall conclusion, but it made sense, at least to me and seemingly Arla, probably Charli too.

I looked around me again, ensuring I was alone. I didn't want the Vanguard to overhear me in case I wasn't supposed to talk about my findings; they hadn't said anything to the contrary, but I wanted to make no assumptions. "So Starco," I said. "On a scale of one to ten, how screwed are we if the Speaker agrees with the Vanguard?"

The Ghost didn't flash into existence, preferring to stay within my consciousness and felt rather than seen. "I'd have to estimate a hard seven or soft eight. What little we have on the House of Illusion shows why the Vanguard wants to be absolutely sure that it's them before they make a public announcement."

"Enlighten me," I responded.

Starco sighed audibly. Nobody else could hear him, so any passersby would think I'm talking to myself which is why I would check around me every thirty seconds or so, just to make sure I was still alone. "Well for one, they're supposed to be dead. Obviously they're not. Second, we know that they have the capability of turning invisible, like other Fallen, but for hours. They also can make scans of almost anyone and disguise themselves almost perfectly."

"Almost?" I inquired.

Starco responded confidently. "It's what ultimately led to their destruction as far as we know, which isn't much. The scans are superficial, superimposed rather than an actual transformation. Though, I think it's worth mentioning that this data is derived from recovered Fallen records. We have not necessarily seen them ourselves and have total record."

I thought back to my encounters with two of them, one in the cosmodrome and the other on Mars. I recalled the one on Mars seeming a little more sophisticated, more whole. "What about 'Lee' back on Mars?" I asked. "That gear on that Vandal was clearly his."

"Well if they've survived despite their supposed collapse, then that probably means they've picked up a few new tricks."

I thought about this for a moment, tossing the idea around in my head. It made sense that their technologies and strategies would change with time. The question really was: how much had it changed?After a few seconds of staring at the City, I asked, "What kind of tricks?"

"My guess is that they can hold a disguise for a few days now, maybe a week."

"Using a truck like that, could they sneak into a Cabal base and destroy it from the inside?"

"Remember, it's a hypothesis that remains unproven," Starco warned.

"One that you seem to readily entertain," I countered.

"The more I think about what we've experienced in the past and what we saw back on Mars, the more I have to accept that we're dealing with an enemy we may not have actually dealt with before. Something familiar yet not at the same time."

It was then that a passing thought crossed my mind. One I had almost forgotten even existed. "What about the Wolves? When Dea met me on the ship, she said something about the House of Wolves mounting a rebellion against the Awoken. Mars is the next closest entity besides the Asteroid Belt."

"I don't think that a House kept in bondage for that long would be able to inflict this much damage. Besides, why go to Mars where we are when they could just go hide out on one of Jupiter's moons?"

I tightened my grip on the rail. "Nobody thought that the Fallen would have been able to punch through the Wall either. They could've been amassing weapons for years in secret, waiting for the perfect day to rebel."

"The Wolves aren't traditionally as melee heavy as what we saw on Mars. Even if they didn't have enough weapons, they would have given anyone on such an important mission as much firepower as they could afford."

"Unless that wasn't their most important mission. Retrieving stolen intel is not necessarily the most pressing matter once someone else has already seen it and had some time to analyze it. Maybe they were trying to steal it back?"

"Which then makes it even more baffling that they succeeded presumably without a casualty," Starco pointed out.

I let go of the railing and straightened my posture, once again staring into the glowing aura of the City's night life. "Maybe we're overthinking this. Let's sleep on it and look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow." Just then, something hit me on my left shoulder. It wasn't heavy whatever it was, but it had my attention. I immediately looked over my shoulder and then at the ground for whatever hit me. At first, I saw nothing, just gray concrete and green grass, but after a second I noticed a small rock, curious in shape and size. It was no bigger than my little finger, but it was dense for something its size. I carefully bent down and picked it up. On its back was a small slip of paper attached with a very weak glue. I grabbed one end of the paper and lifted it off the rock, haphardly tossing the stone to the side and unfolding the paper. The handwriting was symmetrical and precise, each point made deliberately and dark without puncturing it. It read:

 _ **Maximus,**_

 _ **No time to explain. Baseball field now. Tower is not safe.**_

 _ **Look up**_

"What?" I muttered inaudibly. How could the Tower not be safe? Sure I'd had that one run in a while ago, but the Guardian that let him in had since been dismissed without any similar cases since. After taking a second longer to look for any hiddden meaning or signature other than "Look up." I had a pretty good idea who it was and looked directly above me, but to my surprise I only saw the beautiful night sky, stars twinkling from lightyears away. Slightly puzzled, I turned my gaze back to the City and immediately recognized a black figure, a silhouette against the City's lights, with piercing blue eyes that glowed brightly in the dark, standing on the edge of a rail used to guide the supply ships in to unload. Just as I was sure she noticed my gaze, she leapt off the edge and dove toward the ground, a faint flash of light accompanying her fall not even a second afterward.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The baseball field was deserted, especially at this time of night when there was no game scheduled tonight or even tomorrow. Starco had opened the doors to the players' entrance, the locker room, and then those to the dugout. I strode out of the locker room, a pistol holstered at my hip just in case something turned sour, and made my way up the few steps onto the grass and clay. I had been here a couple of times, but for those I'd been in an orange uniform with 'Sunsingers' written in slanted cursive across the front.

The large sets of lights that usually illuminated the field a few shades off of what the Sun produced were shut off, security lights up the aisles and covered walkways really being the only sources of light. There were a couple in the dugout as well, and that cast a light glow on the edge of the field up to about the foul line before cutting off strictly at that point, leaving the rest of it in a murky black. I waited for a several seconds, but nothing moved. A minute passed, then two with no sign of Dea anywhere. Doubt started to creep into my mind. "Did I imagine that?" I asked aloud to Starco. Surely I couldn't have imagined the rock and the slip of paper.

"No, you didn't," a feminine voice said in the distance. Suddenly, the two glowing eyes returned and began to bob ever so slightly, accompanied by the crunch of grass beneath heavy boots. Within a matter of seconds, I began to make out Dea's outline until she stepped into the light. I quickly noticed that she wore a raven black shawl, the attached hood pulled over her head, leaving her face in a fair amount of shadow.

"If memory serves me correctly," I began. "You're usually the one waiting for me. Not the other way around."

Dea crossed her arms. "Took me a minute to disable the security system," she replied rather curtly. A moment of silence passed between us, the air was tense, something was up.

I waved a hand as if to do the same to the comment. "Anyway, so what is it that's is so important that you made me come out here? You do realize that this is an extremely public place right?"

Dea chuckled lightly and kept her eyes on me. "You of all people should know I have my ways of disappearing when I need to."

It was my turn to cross my arms. "How so? To say I'm suspicious would be a bit of an understatement." Something was obviously up; she wouldn't be here if somethin wasn't.

"Look, Maximus, you know I wouldn't be here unless I knew something you don't, whcih believe me is quite a lot, but I digress. To keep it short, your suspicion is right. The House of Illusion have returned. How? I know not, but the fact is they're here now, and they must be stopped before the City looks a lot like that Cabal base you and your friends investigated."

"How do you know about that?"

"I have my sources. Just don't worry about it, The less you know about them, the better."

I raised my right hand, palm out, at her. "Hold up a minute," I said. "You can't just say something like that and expect to get away without giving me a little more."

"Maximus, even now there are still things you won't understand. Just leave it be while you still can. Let's take a seat in the dugout, and you can pick my brain there."

I said nothing but turned around to descend the steps into the dugout. I didn't mean to appear rude, just trying to get a read on her. As usual though, there was nothing in her body language that suggested anything I could use in my favor. The confident swagger I rarely saw her without was present in full force. Now in the dugout with Dea in tow, I sat down on the wooden bench and leaned back against the wood and wall. Dea followed suit but about a foot away from me. I decided to start with the most glaring question in my mind. "Why isn't the Tower safe?" I asked sternly.

She hung her head for a second. "I thought you'd start with that. To be frank, that was a lie. The Tower's probably as safe as it's ever been; I just didn't want to talk to you there where others could be listening. Your knowing me must stay between us and Arla beacuse you can probably guess how the Vanguard would react if they knew you were working with me."

I could understand that. Being an Agent of the Nine was likely a tough job, one I did not want to have personally but understand the secrecy. The Vanguard would not appreciate me getting help from a total stranger, not as much of one now, but there was still plethora of things I didn't know about her, things I knew she wouldn't answer straightly if at all. "It's becoming harder and harder to keep that secret you know. The Vanguard have been up and down my back to share the Black Garden footage and rewrite the report in more detail."

"They won't force you to do it, given you don't give them reason to. That said, don't give them a reason. So, next question."

It didn't even take a second for me to come up with the next one. "Who exactly are the House of Illusion?"

Dea thought for a moment, either censoring what she was about to say or trying to recall something useful that I likely did not know. "Due to the length of time they were presumed dead, there officially isn't much on them for the last couple of centuries. Essentially, I've read the same reports you have and a couple more. They're the Fallen except a little tougher than most of their brethren. As far as I've been able to tell, which isn't far mind you, the other Houses don't know they exist, but if they did, I assure you it wouldn't be pleasant for either side."

"What do you mean?" I inquired, adjusting my position on the bench so that the pistol would be a little more comfortable.

"A House with that kind of technology that refuses to share it with the others would not go over well. My theory is that they disappeared due to the other Houses somehow."

"What about unofficial documents?"

Dea stared at something behind me for a second before snapping back into focus. I didn't say anything meanwhile. Instead, I tried to get a read on what she wasn't saying. Dea responded, "There have been unconfirmed reports of modified Skiffs painted completely black moving through Reef space and Mars, but those were decades ago. Besides, anyone that saw them only got a glimpse before it disappeared completely. Unofortunately, there are no pictures or follow up sitings until years later with decreasing frequency.."

"What we need is concrete facts and evidence, not theories and rumors. If the Vanguard are going to believe me on this, we're going to have to convince them."

Dea shook her head and looked me in the eyes. "Maximus, you and I both know that they're not going to believe anyone about a threat inside the City until they have physical evidence…"

I interjected immediately. "...But if we wait, then it'll be too late. Finding one in the City would mean that they could be anyone anywhere."

Dea put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I know that you want to protect as many people as possible, but sometimes that can't include everybody." I opened my mouth to protest, but she stopped me before I could say anything. "The soldier in you says to find another way, but sometimes there are some that cannot be persuaded. In this case, that's Zavala and Ikora."

Her exclusion of Cayde perked my interest. That was an odd thing to leave out, so I jumped on the opportunity. "You didn't mention Cayde. What about him?"

"Perceptive as usual," Dea responded almost lightheartedly. "He's your target. Cayde is more of a renegade as compared to the other two. From what I understad, he's also the newest of the three Vanguard and may not be as by the book as say someone in Zavala's position. While he certainly could not have directly said it, he may believe you at least in part. The Hunter Vanguard is much more open to risky tactics, so if you get him on your side, then you stand that much more of a chance at nipping this right in the bud."

"I'm not sure what kind of terms he and I are on."

Dea looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that he and I are not really that close, yet he said he'd humor my argument and take Starco's data to the Speaker. The last time either of us interacted directly with one another was when I beat him in a sharpshooting contest, and then Arla beat him throwing knives a day later. He didn't act like a sore loser, but he sure didn't seem happy."

"I think a man in his position is able to put aside his personal dealings from official business. Besides, holding a grudge for some silly contest is a bit childish don't you think? Really on both of your parts."

She was right; it was childish to think something like that. Ironic considering I'd physically never been a child, but regardless… "I see your point. So you think he's actually going to take this to the Speaker?"

Dea leaned back on the bench. "I don't know Cayde as well as you do. I can pretend to be and know a lot of things, but that's not something I'm willing to say I know. What I do know is that he tends to be the wild card of the bunch; he takes more chances even at the cost of his troops' lives. I'm not saying to trust that he's actually taking this to the Speaker, but I think he may actually run through the data himself and come up with something on his own."

"You make it sound like it'll be something half-baked and dangerous."

"That's because it WILL be half-baked and dangerous. They're plans made in the spur of the moment, something Hunters specialize at from my experience with them. I swear, it's like they all share a brain sometimes."

I gently raised a hand. "Not all plans made in the heat of the moment are bad. I'm guilty of several of those. Heck, the Black Garden didn't necessarily go according to plan did it?"

"You're right it didn't, but...nevermind, it's not pertinent to our conversation. There was one recent sighting of the black Skiffs I mentioned earlier."

I didn't really want to listen to theories, but if it was the best thing we had…"I'm listening."

"The latest sighting was around 50 years ago by a Guardian." Dea produced a datapad barely bigger than the palm of her hand and handed it to me. At first glance, it was a file on a Guardian, a Titan as distinguished by the marking in the background of the picture. The picture was of a bald, dark-skinned human with buzzed black hair and a scruffy goatee that looked to run up both sides of his face as well. "Travis Bishop, a Titan, claimed to have seen a black Skiff that waited for several seconds for transparent soldiers, and then it disappeared without a trace."

"I assume he's dead then since you said was."

"In his report, he claimed that his Ghost began to spark like mad, his suit doing it as well to a lesser extent, until it popped and shattered." I gave her a suspicious look. Odd vocabulary, and an even stranger way for a Ghost to die. "His words right in the report. All in there if you want to believe me. I've got all night if you want to read through it. I scrolled down the page and found that it was the last report he ever filed. In it he described a low sound that quite literally shut his suit down and made him feel uneasy. He then described a sound that resembled a pop and just after, his Ghost lay in pieces just in front of him. I read the entire thing to try and get the whole story, but it was difficult. The stuff I was able to glean were hard earned because the vocabulary was horrendous and mangled. This man had not been in a stable state of mind when he wrote this, no surprise given the apparent trauma of seeing his Ghost die in front of him. I couldn't imagine what was going through his head.

Finished reading, I gave back the datapad. "So what happened to him?" Saying nothing, sheflipped the datapad back at me and scrolled it back to the top to a detail I had totally missed somehow: cause of death. There was one word, one that I didn't think was applicable to a Guardian: Suicide, committed just two days after the report was submitted. I re-checked the date just to make sure. Sure enough, my memory had served me correctly. It made sense though. If his Ghost was dead, then there was no way to revive him. The question was "why?" Could the death of a Ghost actually drive a Guardian to suicide? I leaned deeper into the bench. "Does it say why?" I asked, not hiding my dreadful surprise to his fate.

"The psycheval said he had never quite been the same since his fire team died." I sat up and listened even more intently. Dea held up a hand and quickly added "No details there." I leaned back again, still listening, but I was still trying to piece together the real reason she brought me here. She was dodging something. What, I knew not, but I could tell it in the things she wasn't saying.

Dea continued. "That was their main argument against his claims about a secret house."

"Almost sounds like they thought it was a UFO sighting."

"Funny you mention that because it technically is. They had an idea of what it was but couldn't confirm its identity."

"Ok. I get that, but what aren't you saying?"

Dea squinted at me. "What do you mean?"

I adjusted my seated position again. It was getting late, and I'd let her beat around the bush too much. "You're being cryptic about something, not directly saying it. I'm tired, it's been a long day, and I want to go to sleep for at least a couple hours before I may have to meet with the Speaker." I sounded more irritated than I had meant to.

Dea threw her head back and sighed, proceeding to look me in the eye afterward. "Fine," she said. "This is definitely not the first time the Vanguard have heard. If we're going to stop this House before they kill thousands, we need to take some initiative and get boots on the ground immediately."

"What do you have in mind then?"

Dea stood up, and I joined just a half second later. "I've got two things," she said. "Personally, I recommend doing the first before the second, but I'll leave the final decision." I nodded and crossed my arms. "Ok, so the first is a contact I have in the Reef." I raised a hand to object, but Dea pushed the hand away and continued. "I know how the Reef feels about you, about us, but if you play your cards right, then you won't have to deal with Uldren. You need to find a Fallen named Variks, he is a House of Judgement scribe if you could consider one an entire House. He serves the Queen, so I don't expect that he'll shoot at you unless the Queen has put a price on your head."

"Let's hope not. And the second?" I probed.

"Recently a communication array powered up in the American Wastes, one that was supposedly destroyed centuries ago when the Fallen first invaded."

"That's deep in Kings' territory," I blurted.

"Indeed. The problem is that this wasn't likely the Kings' doing. They tried getting into the bunker years ago but were defeated each time they tried to barge in by some invisible force. Recently, they've been sending all of their forces to the eastern front they've created with the Hive, and the northwestern one they're starting."

"What's so important about this facility? Like what is it transmitting?"

"A signal to a warmind, an earlier, more powerful version of Rasputin called Caesar."

"More powerful? How?"

"For one, it'll overthrow Rasputin's control on almost any weapons it has, but it also reportedly has an army of undisturbed Exos at its disposal. These aren't like you and me. They're ruthless killing machines that have no other purpose than to protect their warmind. If that warmind falls into the Fallen's hands, then we may be witnessing the last days of our existence."

"I'm going to guess you believe that this is the Illusion."

"I'm not entirely sure. I want to say it's them making a move, but..." She placed a hand on her chin. "...The question is why would they need such an instrument? When they attack, they stay in the shadows or find some disguise and kill when their opponent drops his/her guard. That's one of the reasons they were so effective when they were at their prime. They're not known for bombing someone into the stone age."

"You know the expression 'if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it's a duck?'" I asked. Dea nodded slowly, steadily growing aware of where I was taking this. "Take it in the opposite then. If this doesn't seem like their kind of tactic, then it probably is not them, and if not-so-stealthy Houses couldn't get in, how would they get in, barring they didn't disguise themselves as something it would recognize. In my personal opinion, I think this is the Kings trying to tip the odds in their favor. Not only will a warmind help their efforts to defeat the Hive, but also us as well."

"Making it all the more imperative not to let that happen," Dea interrupted.

"Never said I was going to," I replied.

Dea put a hand on her hips. "That's exactly what I'm counting on." There was a sudden flash of light, and she was gone without any sign of her ever being there.

"I guess that means you're not coming along," I mumbled to myself and began working my way to the exit.

I returned to the Tower a short time later lost in thought, trying to piece together what I should do next. The short and simple answer was to investigate the signal to a warmind out in the American Wastes. The last thing the City needed was to live in constant fear of orbital death from above. That could prove to be humanity's ultimate end, and the darkness would prevail as the Traveler would be destroyed or severely damaged and unguarded. At the same time, I needed to get information on the Illusion before they struck much closer to home. The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became. Perhaps I was overthinking this. I needed to talk to Arla alone. As much as I would love to tell Charli about Dea's existence, she needed to get used to the basics of the world before she started going along the more complicated paths that I had unfortunately gotten myself wrapped up in.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The air at the Tower Plaza was much cooler than it had been back in the City, mostly because of the vast difference in altitude. While I generally didn't care what the temperature was outside, I preferred cold to hot mainly because it posed less of a threat to abnormally high internal temperatures.

I was of two minds to walk straight to her room and see if she and Charli had returned, but just as I entered the lift, I decided to go to my room instead for a moment. I had just walked in when 'Crush' bellowed from the table, "It's about time you got back! Are we going to blow something up or not? I can feel the rust creeping back." A typical greeting from the machine gun whenever I left the Tower without him (it?).

The lights flashed on as I passed through the doorway and walked over to the table, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a small phone, something I bought for Arla, Lee, and myself a while ago. I'd barely used it mainly because it was rare that the three of us were not in the same room. Of course, now substitute Charli for Lee, and you have our current arrangement. Before I powered up the device, I opened the drawer again, reaching into the shadow wedge of shadow at the back. Unsurprisingly, it was still there, Lee's phone, obtained a few days after the Black Garden when we officially declared Lee dead and moved what items we wanted to keep out of his room. He didn't keep much in his room besides guns and ammo, couple of journals filled with tales of his adventures (Arla took those). I took his small phone that he'd used maybe once or twice. I don't know why I did it now, that thought process long forgotten, but nevertheless I had it. For a moment, I considered giving it to Charli, but it just didn't feel right, not right now.

I pushed the drawer closed and powered up my small device, the screen turning bright white for several seconds before shifting to my screensaver, a picture of Arla, Lee, and me taken not too long after I'd gotten to the Tower. It still amazed me that this wasn't even a year ago. So much had happened since then, and by the looks of things, it looked like things were about to pick up again.

'Crush' piped up again, yanking me out of my momentary stupor. "Yo, Max! You in there?"

"Yes. Sorry Crush," I answered. "You'll get to see some action not too long from now. We just need to meet with Arla and Charli first."

"No it's all good," Crush said calmly. "Besides, that Arla's not too hard on the sensors." Starco shook his shell in disapproval while I rolled my eyes.

"If that's what it takes..." I muttered.

"You know that's not what it takes," the gun said, his voice raising again. "It takes you, me, a couple hundred bullets, and some Fallen to satisfy my craving for justice."

Ignoring any further comment, I checked the frequency the device was set to, ensuring it was the private channel now only Arla and I shared. As expected, it hadn't changed, and I pulled up Arla's name from the few contacts registered to the device. I pressed the call button and pressed the speaker to my audio sensor and paced slowly around my room. The rings droned on for several seconds before a gruff voice answered, "You have reached Arla's message box. She's unavailable to you right now, so leave a message or buzz off!" Just as it cut off, I could hear a stifled snicker. This was obviously another one of that Heksis' pranks. From what Arla told me, he was as good a fighter as he was a joker. Not willing to humor the joke, I hung up just before the message tone rang and called again. This time, Arla answered, her voice extremely groggy. The first thing I heard was a yawn. "Sorry, did I wake you?" I asked.

"No, not at all," Arla lied with another deep yawn. "Sorry, I must have dozed off. Charli and I got here just a few minutes ago. I kind of just collapsed on the bed with all my armor on."

"That probably wasn't comfortable. Nowhere near as comfortable as yours is," she responded, verbally noting the robes I wore with the armor underneath. Her voice still sounded half-asleep.

"You'd be surprised how awkward it can be." I sat down on the bed.

"Hmm...So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Go ahead and get some sleep. I know you earned it today."

Her voice seemed to relax into an almost dreamy state, like she was already going to sleep before disconnecting the call. "You don't have to tell me twice." The phone cut off.


	11. Skiff

**Chapter 10**

 **Skiff**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

"So I guess that officially means things are happening again," Arla concluded. We were in her room fairly early in the morning, the red light of the sunrise bleeding through the door. She sat on her bed with its sheets peeled back from her recent stint asleep, something her bleary eyes still heavily hinted at. Arla positioned herself on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her hands and crossing her legs while I sat on a chair a few feet across from her.

"Honestly, I think things have been going on for a long time. Dea said this hadn't been the first time the Vanguard refused evidence about the Illusion."

"She's probably right. They've probably seen the writing on the wall for a long time now, but I thought that it was gone after the Black Garden, that anything remaining was limited and peace was on the horizon. I honestly didn't think that the Fallen were capable of getting their hands on that type of technology" She rubbed her thumb and forefinger across her chin.

"Well right now, our time is limited if we don't get over to that bunker."

Arla nodded. "Right. If you'll go get Charli from her room, we'll get going within the hour." She stood up from the bed as I did similar with the chair. The motion looked stiff compared to the usual graceful fluidity to her movements. "In the meantime, I'm going to eat something and get ready. I'll meet you in the hangar."

I made a move towards the door, but stopped myself just short of exiting, turning around and catching Arla grab her armor from the floor on the opposite side of her bed, a large gash from what was likely a blade of some sort slashing diagonally from the top right of the chest piece to the bottom left, the paint around the cut scratched with a couple of burn marks. "What the heck happened to your armor? More importantly, are _you_ alright?"

Arla turned the armor her direction and saw the gash herself, her eyes growing wide as she examined it, like she'd never seen it before just now. She muttered almost inaudibly, "I mean...it was a rough blow..." She dropped the chestplate on the bed and pressed a hand on various parts of her torso, her face twisting in pain in several spots that seemed to form a line that likely lined up with the slash. She then stiffly walked over to her mirror and rolled up the bottom of her tank top. I could only see her reflection from an odd angle, but the deep purple of the bruise extending from her waist up her chest was more than noticeable against her blue skin.

Momentarily, I flashed back to just after the battle to protect the Wall, when she began to bleed profusely from a wound she hadn't even noticed. I immediately grabbed the chair and carefully slid it underneath her. Questions flew through my mind as I did so, but none more than, "What in the world happened?!"

"It's...nothing, really. One of those Hive Knights took a swing at me yesterday when Charli and I were in the Cosmodrome. I honestly never even noticed it until now."

I looked her in the eye, maintain complete contact while I spoke and refuting any of her attempts to dodge my stare. "Arla, you know I love and trust you, but that's a load of garbage. You don't just not realize a giant black bruise across the middle of your torso like that."

"Don't patronize me," she retorted but immediately calmed herself. "I can already tell you're upset over the fact that Dea is back and this only makes it worse."

She was right, but I didn't waver my gaze. Realizing we were wasting valuable time, I asked, "Can you fi...no, can you even walk properly?"

Arla stared back at me, shooting daggers like she would almost any enemy when she saw the opportunity. I waited with my arms crossed as she delayed for just a few moments more, like she was preparing herself for the pain. After those few seconds passed, she slowly but surely began pushing herself up and out of the chair, stiff but able, her face trying to remain firm but her eyes clearly betrayed the slightly annoyed expression on her face. I should have expected as much from her. She had never been one to let injury keep her from the action, including when she was supposed to be in the Medical Ward, but then again, that was how we both worked, one of the reasons I helped get her out of there.

The fact remained that she had bested my challenge; Arla successfully stood up under her own power and even took a few stiff yet victorious steps in an extremely subdued celebration, making sure to flash me an "I told you so" grin. I put the chair back, and Arla grabbed the pierced armor again. Giving it a closer look, I could determine that the slash was more cosmetic than anything, the impact more than enough to leave her bruised like that. Though it wasn't the bruises I was concerned about; it was broken ribs. I didn't buy that she wasn't feeling anything other than the usual soreness, but since she seemed to be breathing fine and could sit, stand, and move around just fine, I could all but rule that out. It was against my better judgement, but she was going to come whether I wanted her to or not. "Do you have any backups?" I asked. I figured she did, but she'd been wearing this one since I'd customized it. Her Ghost respawning it wouldn't likely repair it given that was probably what they, or at least Stargazer, had attempted when they got back.

Arla thought for a moment, placing a hand beneath her chin and lightly crossing the other arm over her chest. "I do, but there not nearly as high quality." Suddenly, the chest piece disappeared in a flash of light and rematerialized only a few seconds later, shiny and whole again save for a few dents and dings Arla likely asked Stargazer to keep. Most notably, the gash was gone, replaced by the deep purple paint and gold detailing that only accentuated the regal look of the armor. I now realized that the look she had earlier was not seeing the gash for the first time. The look instead appeared to stem from the fact that Stargazer had not refreshed it during the night. Arla gestured towards the armor. "Good as new. Now, go wake up Charli. She's across the hall four doors down."

"On it," I replied, quickly exiting the room and walking briskly down the hall. I first knocked on the door to no response. I rapped on the door a few more times, hitting a little harder but only heard a rather unattractive snoring coming from the other side. Moments later, Arla walked out of her room, her armor now complete minus the helmet, and saw me standing in front of the door. She quickly, but stiffly, made her way over to me and said, "I guess she's still out like a light."

Charli snored again from beyond the door. "Yeah, I couldn't get in."

"I thought I added you to the permissions list," Arla said, once again placing her hand on her chin. "I guess not. I'll get that done." Arla then knocked a few times on the door, and it slid open almost immediately. The room was sparsely furnished, little more than the bed, table, drawers, and armor rig that came standard with the each room. The walls were largely silver with a pair of crimson stripes that slanted down the center of each wall. In the bed lay a face down Charli still wearing her entire suit of armor and snoring with every inhale. I walked over to the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a slight nudge followed by a harder one. She sharply inhaled and shook her head, bringing her hands to her head as she sat on her legs. Her armor also featured some cosmetic damage but nothing to the extent Arla's had, just a few scorch marks and dirt stains that marred the shine of the burnt orange armor.

Charli felt unclasped and removed her helmet after searching with her slightly uncoordinated hands for a couple seconds. Her auburn hair seemed to go all over the place except for where she likely wanted it to be. Her forehead had a large red area on it from where she'd pressed against the helmet while asleep. Her eyes looked asleep with dark circles beneath them. She rubbed them with her gloved hands but quickly shifted her bleary gaze to her hands, proceeding to look all over her body to find that the armor still covered her. Charli seemed to yet acknowledge our presence in the room. "That explains why I dreamed I was sleeping on a pile of sharp rocks." Her voice sounded as asleep as her eyes. She looked up and seemed to finally see us. "How did you two get here?" she asked with her tired voice.

"The Tower's computer let's teammates go into each other's room while the owner is in there," Arla explained.

"Most of the time," I muttered.

Arla flashed her gaze at me before turning back to Charli. "We need to get going. We've stalled as long as we can."

"Where are we going?" Charli inquired, taking off her gloves and rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"The American wastes, not too far from here, but we have word that the Fallen are trying to hack into a prototype warmind from long ago."

The Titan seemed to perk up when Arla said "Fallen." Her eyes seemed to have embers in them. Charli blinked and the embers disappeared. "So we go in, shoot up the place, and stop them from hacking it?"

Arla smiled. "Perceptive for being half-asleep but not quite. We need to get inside and destroy any assets it has." I hadn't told her that which made me a little suspicious.

Charli stood up and began to pace around the room in an apparent effort to arouse herself from her current drowsy state. "Sounds like a self-destruct sequence would do the trick. I would think that something like that would have some sort of protocol in case they got into the wrong hands. Several of the ships I served on had failsafes like that. Saved several of them from the Fallen."

I folded my arms and continued listening to them talk. Arla responded, "Sounds reasonable. I've never been in a warmind, but I think it's safe to assume that there is something we can trigger. Either way, time is of the essence. Meet us at the hangar in ten minutes. Eat something, check your ammo, and don't be late. Maximus and I will make sure Halliday has your ship ready to launch."

Charli nodded. "I'll be there." Arla and I turned to leave but just before we did, Charli called out my name.

"Yes," I said, motioning Arla to continue. She walked toward her room rather than to the lift. I turned toward Charli. The Titan was grabbing her weapons off the desk, a red and blue auto rifle that I hadn't seen her use before and the white pistol I'd given her.

She placed the rifle on her back and spoke. "Is it normal to see this much action in just a day or two?" Her voice didn't seem worried, but more than just a casual question.

"Generally speaking, no," I responded calmly. "I'm not really the best one to ask though."

Charli seemed to nod and get back to getting her gear together while I walked away. Arla's door opened as I approached as if she'd been expecting me to come in. I walked in and stopped for a second when I saw Arla in pale gold armor with small stripes of white that accentuated the gold parts. She was wrapping the hilt of her knife with tape similar to the pale gold on her armor. I glanced at the door as it shut behind me. Arla finished taping her knife and placed it back in its sheath. "When did we decide that it needed to be destroyed?" I inquired.

"We didn't," Arla stated flatly. "I did. If one group of Fallen got in, then that means other groups like the Cabal could get in, and we can't have them get that kind of weaponry. The only way to prevent that from ever happening is to destroy it."

"Since the door's open though, why don't we try and use it for our own purposes?" I knew it'd probably get shot down, but it was a worthwhile question in my opinion.

"The Vanguard recently tried to do that with Rasputin. Sent a greeting party. We're not sure what they said, but when their pieces were found scattered throughout the Cosmodrome, the Vanguard did not take that as a sign of cooperation. They're not about to take that same chance with a prototype that was ultimately shut down. Especially one with an Exo army to command."

"I see your point," I conceded, unsurprised. "What makes you think that the Fallen haven't met a similar fate?"

"What makes you think this is the Fallen in the first place?" Arla countered.

"Call it Dea and a hunch. Either way, we can't let the Fallen align themselves with this warmind, or we'll be in quite the predicament."

"Agreed," Arla replied, checking the weapons on her back. With that, we both exited to the hangar.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The American Wastes spanned most of the North American continent, and featured ruined cityscapes, mountains, forests, and the one we were most concerned about, deserts. Caesar was located in a remote part of Arizona, a region once part of the United States of America, a country that pretty much self-destructed in the 2100s. A shame really given how much they overcame to that point, but the political and economic holes they dug themselves into were just too much to overcome in the long run. Of course, nuclear weapons and civil war don't generally mix well either, so that certainly did not help their cause.

"Starco," I called out to my Ghost. "You got a lock on that signal?" We had to be close by now. It'd taken us a little over an hour of flying to get to its vicinity only to find out that the specific coordinates had been scrambled and encrypted. Using methods far beyond what I would be able to comprehend, Starco and the other two Ghosts were trying to decrypt and pinpoint the source of the signal and Caesar.

"It's getting stronger, but we haven't had any luck breaking the decryption," Starco replied from somewhere in the ship. I was busy keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of an underground bunker. Of all the places they could put a secret bunker, it had to be in the desert. "Honestly, I'm more scared of it detecting us and locating us. If that thing is fully functional, it'll fire on us, and I can't guarantee it'll miss."

"Charming," Arla said sarcastically over the comms.

Charli chimed in. "So what exactly are we looking for?"

I had no idea. Dea hadn't really told me. "Probably a metal building or something. Keep an eye out for any motion on the ground, especially something that looks like it has a gun."

"Did you find something?" Arla asked.

"You could say that," Charli admitted.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Titan Charli Hendricks**

Fallen Skiffs looked different than Charli remembered, sleeker with more guns. They also looked a bit more compact, built for speed rather than strength from what she could remember, but that no longer seemed to be the case. The big question was whether or not they'd seen her and if her piloting skills had transferred to this "new Charli."

'Well, what did you find?" Maximus asked over the comms, his voice sounding excited or anxious, Charli couldn't tell which. She was busy watching the readouts next to the circle on the ship's HUD that highlighted the Skiff a couple thousand feet below and away from her. She noticed her grip on the stick was a little tighter than it had been when she had flown fighters, perhaps it was the size and relative bulk of this ship. It was by no means second-hand, but it didn't seem too capable on offense. She'd had worse dance partners before.

"The ship's telling me a Fallen Skiff. House of Kings. The ship's also picking up a signal that matches the one from the Warmind prototype." She pressed a few more buttons to try and get a few readouts on the ship's defenses. She could only assume that the Fallen's technology had advanced since she'd last seen them.

"Of course!" Maximus' Ghost Starco exclaimed over the comms. "We should've applied the Kell Code to it!"

"I told you to do it," Vern argued. "But nobody wants to listen to the new guy."

"Welcome to the club pal," a new voice butted in. Charli faintly recognized it as the Machine Gun that Maximus had back on Mars. What was it's name again?

"Quiet Crush!" Maximus warned. That was it, she realized. "I'll leave you on the ship if you continue to blurt random nonsense like that."

Starco ignored them. "We've got it pinpointed Charli. Moving to your location now."

Suddenly, Charli heard a low rumble, like the sound of...She looked down and saw the Skiff suddenly rushing straight upward on a direct collision course with her and closing fast. "Too late. AO is hot. Repeat, the Fallen have spotted me!" Suddenly, the comm channel went to complete static and then nothing, a sign that the Fallen had begun jamming all enemy communications. They'd been listening somehow. For how long, Charli knew not.

Charli swiped away the useless video feeds and brought up the weapon systems. They were meager as she had expected, a pair of low caliber ion cannons that she'd asked Halliday to add while she and Arla went on that mission yesterday. They were the most powerful things that could sync up to the ship's computer without having to do any major rewiring, but they would hopefully suit her purposes. Charli gunned the thrust and pulled the ship up and away from the rising Skiff. She felt the g forces press her into the seat as her attitude quickly climbed. Satisfied with her height far above the Skiff's sensors, Charli killed the thrust and pulled the stick farther back, flipping the ship until it was pointed nose and cannons down. She then re-engaged the thrusters and descended faster than she had ascended.

Just as she had predicted, the Skiff had stopped its sudden ascent and was looking for her with its sensors. It had also moved a good ways forward, allowing Charli to pull out of her dive and open up the cannons, a pair of blue energy streaks shooting out at remarkable speed and directly into the Skiff's shielding, the energy field rippling with each hit. She leveled out at a slight angle, enough so that she would continue peppering the ship as she flew by and just barely miss its cockpit by only a couple of feet, no doubt surprising whatever was flying the ship.

She then pulled back the thrust and made a hard left, physics once again forcing her into the seat. She laughed a little as she was forced into her seat. She missed the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of power as she wielded weapons capable of tearing ships apart, but what she missed most was the enemy's futile attempts to try and stop her. Charli rolled away from several streaks of energy that tried to cut into her hull and shielding. Charli pulled her ship around and faced the side of the Skiff. The ship immediately went to work scanning the ship's systems from that side as Charli continued to hold down the trigger on the cannons. Slowly but surely, the ripples against the shields grew dimmer and dimmer, a sure sign that they were failing from all the punishment. Charli rolled away from more incoming fire and let loose another few volleys at the ship until she saw exactly what she had been looking for: an explosion towards the back. It was small, nothing more than a few feet, but in its wake was a sizeable hole in the armor where the cannons had finally announced their penetration into the ship. A couple of unfortunate Dregs suddenly found themselves sucked out of the hole and falling helplessly to the surface thousands of feet below. "Enjoy the fall!" Charli victoriously cheered to nobody but herself and Vern.

Charli dipped below a few more blasts and rolled away from several more as she circled for another run on the Skiff. This time she was coming for its starboard, coming from behind and streaking the side with cannon fire all the way up to the cockpit. Multiple explosions, increasing in size ripped across the ship's armor, and more grunts found themselves in an involuntary freefall as they were either blown off their guns or sucked out before the blast doors could seal the internal pressure.

Charli came around once more for a final run. Now that the armor on the starboard side was basically toast, she eyed her final target, the main fuel line that would be exposed and ruptured with only a couple volleys of the cannon blasts. Charli lined up her shot and highlighted the fuel lines on her HUD. By now the Skiff's guns on this side had gone silent as most of them were either abandoned or destroyed, fires roared across the the many holes in the hull. Once more, Charli squeezed the trigger and let loose several volleys of energy directly into the feeble blast doors that stood in her way of her ultimate goal.

The first volley crashed into the ship, disintegrating the blast doors on that covered the hole. The second volley smashed slightly off target just above where she wanted. Charli was growing closer by the second, too close for comfort for the magnitude of an explosion that fuel line would create, but she didn't care. She was going to rid the universe of these pirate scum and continued to hold down the trigger. The third volley smashed inside the hole and left a hole directly to the main fuel line. Charli squeezed one more time, time seeming to slow down as she did so. The shot was slightly high, but she noticed that the Skiff suddenly began to roll left, offsetting how much she would have missed her narrow target by. She couldn't tell if the roll was due to the damage or their trying to avoid one final direct hit. From only a few hundred feet out, it was too little too late. The shot went cleanly through to its target, igniting the fuel line and shooting explosions across the entire ship, the largest ones erupting out of the holes Charli had created in the starboard side of the ship, causing it to crash downward even faster than it would have. The shock wave from the explosions were enough to affect Charli's shields and send her spinning upward as she fought to regain control of the stick.

She gripped it hard and pulled the opposite way of her roll, slowing it until the ship was level again, but her vision was still spinning in a nauseating manner. Charli ignored it and turned the ship around and pointed the nose down to follow the ship and watch it explode in a blaze of glory, her latest masterpiece. Charli scaled back her speed to a much more relaxed pace and broke through the low clouds just as the Skiff crashed into the ground in the expected blaze of glory. The explosion no doubt killing off anything that may have been alive just before impact. What Charli did not expect was the Skiff smashing through the ground and continuing to plummet somewhere below the ground.

Charli descended further just above the hole the Skiff created. Jagged metal from what used to be a sand-covered bulkhead or something. Thick, black smoke began to rise from the hole. The comms suddenly crackled back to life just as she put the ship to hover. "...li! The signal has cut out! Do you read? We are coming to your position!"

A drop of sweat dripped off her forehead. She didn't realize just how much energy all that flying and maneuvering consumed. She leaned back in her seat before responding out of breath. "Maximus, Arla. I'm...I'm here. The Skiff's gone down, but it seems to have opened up a massive hole in the ground. I think I found Caesar."

"Charli," Arla began. "You gave us a heart attack. When the comms cut out, we assumed the worst."

Charli chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Remember, I'm a pilot. Fancy flying's what I do. I just don't remember it being so draining. Oh well. What's your ETA?"

Maximus replied first. "Just a couple minutes. Sit tight and don't get shot at until we get there."

Charli smiled. "I'll try." The comms went silent as she waited. While Maximus and Arla were inbound, Charli grabbed her helmet and spoke to Vern. "Drop the ramp. I want to take a look at this hole myself."

"We're not turned the right way," Vern warned.

She winked at the Ghost floating near the pilot's chair. "I know. I'll be careful"

The Ghost sighed. "I strongly advise against jumping into the hole."

Charli smiled devilishly at the Ghost. "Don't worry. Didn't plan on it...yet." She dropped pulled the handle to drop the ramp and pulled her helmet over her head. She walked out to the edge of the ramp, jumped, and immediately activated her suit's Lift function to push her up and above the ship's roof, right in between the heat of the engines, leaving Charli in the cool wind that blew above the top. The view looked almost limitless minus the heavy smoke that rose from the hole. Charli walked up to the front of the ship, making sure to keep her footing on the metal plates that made up the top of the ship, practically untouched thanks to her flying. Charli stood confidently on the edge of the ship's top, watching the two small spots in the background steadily grow larger.

Within a couple of minutes, both ships had stopped at the same altitude, surrounding the hole. Charli continued to stand confidently on top of her ship as Maximus and Arla stabilized their ship's hover patterns. "Weapons please," she radioed Vern. Almost immediately, the weight of her weapons returned to her back, and she grabbed the assault rifle. She pulled out the magazine, pushed down with her thumb on the top bullet, making sure it was full enough that it wouldn't move before pushing it back in the gun and pulling back the bar that ensured the bullet ready to fire. As Charli did this, she moved back to about the midpoint of her ship. She expanded her comms to Maximus and Arla. "Let's get it started," she announced. "I'm heading in." Before either could object, Charli picked ran to the edge of her ship and leapt off the end, doing a couple of flips before steadying herself as she descended into the hole.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

As soon as I saw Charli jump off the top of her ship, I grabbed Crush, the yellow rifle, and a red and blue shotgun that I've rarely used and blinked out of my ship into the crater, spreading my arms and legs to control my descent.

The hole seemed impossibly deep as we fell, black either from the smoke or lack of light making it extremely difficult to see, probably both. Infrared wasn't much better, and due to the Skiff giving off immense heat readings that seemed to spread all around us, thermal was out of the question too, so standard was the best option though none of them were good enough to do any effective combat. Several seconds passed as all three of us were in total freefall, but soon enough I could begin to make out lights below us, oranges and yellows like fire. It must be the ship.

As if on cue, Charli reported from the bottom, "I've got boots on the ground. Can't see much down here without my Ghost's light though." Arla landed just before I did, using her second jump's upward force to cancel out the dangerous momentum we'd gathered and reported the same thing, staying still until I landed using my Glide similarly a few feet from her left, so we could find Charli. All of us avoided landing on top of the burning ship's pieces by some miracle. As I had steadily come to expect, the much of the ship was disintegrating in order to control the blaze, but obviously, that wasn't going to do much in terms of saving the ship. After a few moments of searching, both of us had eyes on her ghost's light.

"Everyone alright?" I asked, placing a hand on Arla and Charli's shoulder so as not to lose them in the thick smoke that covered up almost all of the fires' light this close to the wreckage.

"No better than when we started," Arla replied, glancing to her left and right. "We need to find a way out of this smoke, or we risk an ambush."

"Agreed," Charli said, also looking around but this time up. "How far do you think that was?"

"I'd say far enough to be about where Caesar would be," Arla replied, pulling out the pistol.

"Get to the edges," I ordered. "See if you can find a door out of here. I'd rather not take the risk of the Fallen flooding the area."

Arla and Charli nodded their affirmation and turned around, walking towards what we hoped was the outside of the area. The farther away from the Skiff we went, the lighter the smoke became, ultimately just leaving us in the relative darkness that Starco's light easily took care of.

As I walked, I steadily gained a better understanding of whatever we were in. Clearly it was not just some crater created by the ship, nor was it something an asteroid created. I paused for a moment to swipe away some of the dust on the floor. It took a few, but I was able to see the floor before ash and other particulates covered it. It was white of a seemingly sterile variety, extremely worn letters that looked to spell out "SAR." Each one had curved corners except for the places that had faded with time, and if it weren't for the scuffs on the paint, it looked like the words all connected at some point. I investigating further, crouching down once again and wiping away more of the dust immediately to the left of the SAR. First came out an "E" with the bottom line almost totally missing, then an "A" completely intact save for one piece of the central bridge, and then, to no surprise, a "C" that was all but destroyed. "Arla, Charli," I called out over the comms. "If we hadn't established that this is Caesar, I'm certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is now."

"I think I found a terminal with these fabled Exos, and it doesn't look like it was touched by the crash." Arla reported a seconds later.

"What do they look like?" I inquired.

"I'd love to tell you, but they're not here. Probably haven't been here since it was deactivated…"

"Or since it was reactivated," I interrupted. "Guns up and check your targets before you shoot. The last thing I want is to be shot by one of you because I look like them."

"Don't shoot the Exo in a robe. Got it." Arla joked. Charli chuckled lightly in the background.

I shook my head. "Funny, but I'm being serious." I continued walking forward in relative silence, my footsteps the only thing accompanying the relative darkness and debris scattered about the facility. I wasn't sure about Caesar's layout, but I knew that there had to be a way out of this place. I eventually found the wall, metal plates of the same color bolted into whatever was beyond them. I walked alongside the wall, looking for some sort of opening. Most of it was covered in a thinner layer of particulates that, upon being swept away, revealed a picture of a black laurel wreath, probably the symbol associated either with this project and prototype warmind.

Charli broke the radio silence. "I found a lever on the wall. The writing on it is completely gone, but I think it still works. I'm going to pull it unless there are any objections?"

Pulling it wasn't a good idea, but I couldn't come up with a good reason as to why not. The security Exos were gone and likely destroyed; I highly doubted the power would come back on that easily; and almost anything attached to that lever likely required the power to be on in the first place. Suddenly a solid and heavy sound rattled softly around me. Apparently taking silence as a yes, Charli announced, "I flipped it up. Took a little effort, but doesn't look like anything…" Suddenly, there was a second much louder and solid _thunk_ immediately followed by a whirring originating from somewhere in the walls. Blinding white lights suddenly flashed on until about 10 feet overhead. A monotone voice glitched for a moment as it spoke, the deep tones reverberating off the walls. "Wa-a-a-arnnningg! Majjjoor [static] Breach detected in Silo Theta 1. Initiating countermeasures." I looked skyward, expecting something to close, but instead there was an intense clicking noise followed by another announcement. "Countermeasures failed. Please evacuate this sector before it is erased in 30 seconds."

"That escalated quickly," Charli commented.

"Where's the door?" I shouted, searching through the now-illuminated smokey "silo."

"It's over by me!" Arla shouted through the comms, the HUD marking that she was about 50m to my right. "Get over to my position." She didn't have to tell me twice. I immediately turned and sprinted towards the diamond marker my HUD placed on Arla's signal, a route that was partially blocked by larger pieces of debris and smoke but maneuverable. I mantled over a stray and charred piece of the Skiff that stood taller than my head. I rolled when I landed and continued running. 10 seconds had passed, and I was closing in. I hurdled over a smaller piece of smoking metal and could see the glowing visor on Arla's helmet in the distance. As I continued running, I began to hear a high-pitched whine growing in intensity and pitch with each passing second. "I'm in!" Charli called out. "Maximus! Where are you?" Her voice was frantic.

"I'm almost there," I called back. "Just have to get beyond this bank of smoke."

"Say again?" Arla asked. "There's no smoke over here and no sign of you."

"What?!" I leapt over another piece of debris just as the marker hit zero. Suddenly, something wrenched my arm in midair and tossed my to the ground. The colors on my helmet warped, and my vision spun from the sudden impact. The whine was quickly becoming a piercing screech as I tried to make sense of what just happened.

"Threat identified," a robotic, gruff voice said in a reporting tone. "Purging now."

"Maximus!" Arla called out. "What's happening?" Before I could respond, I rolled over onto my back just in time to see a metal hand grasp my helmet, the pressure quickly becoming more than the helmet would be able to take if I didn't do something. The hand ripped me off the floor, and I made a wild kick in the off chance of actually hitting something. Somehow I did, and the hand immediately let go of my helmet, dropping me back onto the floor. "10 seconds to erasing. Please evacuate the area immediately." Not wasting any time, I scrambled to my feet and ran straight into my assailant, an silver Exo with heavy plating all over his body. The plates seemed to hide his eyes from view, but I was sure he wasn't blind given how he'd snatched me out of the air. I made a grab for my gun, but before I could, the Exo had put a boot to my head. Cracks spider-webbed across the glass on my HUD as I fell backwards, the impact with the floor finishing the job of shattering the glass with ease.

"5 seconds until erasing procedure, sealing blast area."

"NO!" Arla screamed as the door audibly slammed shut, probably struggling to get it back open. The piercing sound was now a roar, and the lights had gotten significantly brighter in the last few seconds. I knew I was about to die, but I wasn't going to allow this thing to kill me without a fight. The silver Exo stood over me and grabbed my robe at the center, lifting me just as the monotone voice counted 3. In a last ditch attempt, I meleed the Exo in the chest, releasing its grip on me and causing it to stutter back a few steps. I landed solidly at 2 and grabbed my shotgun, charging forward at 1, and pulling the trigger at point blank. I could see nothing but white as the shotgun kicked back, and immediately afterward, everything went black.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 _ **30 Minutes later...**_

It felt like I was floating in some sort of limbo. Gravity did not seem to have a hold of me, but I knew I had to be somewhere. Unless I was dead at which point, I don't know where I would go or be. Maybe this was it, this feeling of weightlessness amongst a backdrop of black. An endless nothingness that would rule me forever. It was then that I realized my eyes were closed. Upon opening them, I discovered that I was still in the pit, fires from the ship flickering much smaller now. Either the smoke still choked out almost all of the sun's light this far below or night was falling.

A voice snapped me back into the situation. "Yo, Max." It was Crush. "I'm not sure this is the right location for a nap."

I sat up, feeling the soreness that was my back and arms. My head also throbbed lightly from whatever that thing did to me when it grabbed my helmet. I looked about the HUD, searching for any sign of cracks in the smart glass, but there was little to be found in the darkness. I tried to contact the others. "Charli, Arla, are you guys alright?" The static answered with a distinct nothing. "Arla, Charli, are you two alright?" I pushed myself to my feet, and Starco activated his light. "Nublier, Hendricks! Do you copy?" There was still nothing coming from the other side of the comms. I glanced at the motion tracker on the top left of my HUD; as far as I could tell it was clear, but I was going to make this quick regardless. "Starco," I said to my Ghost. "Shine your light on my helmet when I take it off." I quickly unclasped it and looked at the back underneath the white light, angling the helmet to limit the glare it would give and wiping off dust in other places.

I searched the back portion of the helmet, looking for a small rectangular panel that should be located close to the top. I quickly found it but not before I discovered a sizable dent in the metal. "That explains the radio silence," Starco commented.

"But not the waypoint that led me right to that Exo." I slid the helmet back over my head.

"I don't really have an explanation for that. I just displayed the coordinates I received. Arla should have been right there. Though my biggest question is how are we alive right now. The computer clearly said something about erasing."

"I don't think this place has had its power activated for centuries. Its power grid probably couldn't handle it and overloaded just before it fired," I suggested. "There are probably countless parts that have rusted over or fallen apart, so I'd venture to say that this place can do little more than turn on the lights and run the computer."

"That said, we'll still have to deal with your friend's comrades."

"Then we keep our head on a swivel." I used Starco's light to locate my weapons and secure them to my back, keeping Dea's rifle out just in case. The damage to the helmet was not going to help me in any way, but I didn't want to bad spt should something pop out at the exact moment Starco despawned it. "Are you able to get a fix on Vern or Stargazer?"

He went quiet for a minute. "I'm not picking up anything. It's like we're being jammed or something. I can't even get a fix on the ships outside of the facility. It's weird and definitely not reassuring."

"Well then, I guess we find the door the old fashioned way." I began walking straight forward until I found the wall, tripping a couple times over debris I failed to notice and having to climb over pieces of the Skiff several times. It was eerily quiet as I approached, every piece of me alert for any sound that did not belong to me or my movements, a footstep or a breath, something that would alert me to something else in the room that could do me harm. Once I found it, I continued walking along the perimeter, which looked more and more circular the longer I followed it, until I found a door sealed shut. Its surface was void of any windows and several inches of metal by the looks of it. Also given that there was no tangible lip to the wall big enough for my fingers to curl against, out went the possibility of forcing the door open manually.

"You think this is it?" I asked.

"I hope so. There's only one way to find out." Starco sounded slightly worried.

"Would you be able to get it open?" I asked. Starco flashed in and quickly began scanning the door from several different angles.

"In short, no. There's not a local terminal linked with the door based on what I could find."

"Crap. The only other option I can think of is contacting the others, but you'd need to refresh the helmet, and I don't feel like going headless should one of those Exos appear again."

Starco disappeared again. "I think you may need to bite the bullet on this one. Metaphorically speaking of course."

I glanced at the blank motion tracker on my HUD. I didn't trust its unambiguous all clear. "You're not picking up anything?" I asked.

"Nada," Starco replied.

"Well then, here goes nothing." I quickly took off my helmet and tossed it away, letting Starco despawn it almost immediately.

I never noticed just how much the suit's systems helped me see in relative darkness even without the night vision. The blackness of the smoke seemed all the more daunting without my helmet. One of many reasons I immediately pulled up the sights on the rifle and gazed into the dark through the lens of a circular, holographic sight. Seconds ticked away slowly as I waited for Starco to hurry and respawn my helmet. Finally he did, and I hastily slipped it over my head and returned my sights to the smoke. "Arla, Charli. Are you there?" I waited for several seconds before repeating myself. "Arla, do you copy?" Another couple seconds of static and silence. "Charli, are you receiving?" Still nothing. I continued cycling through my various ideas to contact them, but none of them ever worked. I had lowered my weapon several minutes ago as I tried to get ahold of either the Huntress or Titan because if something was going to get me, it should have already tried its best. I stopped transmitting not long after because as much as I wanted to continue, I was beginning to lose hope that they were still able to be reached. Either they had abandoned me, thinking I'd been "erased," or they had been killed. I didn't fancy either outcome, but they may very well be the outcomes with the highest chance. I turned around and looked at the wall as if it had the answers I needed. Wait a minute…

"Starco," I requested. "Do you mind giving the wall a scan?" I think I had a solution.

"I think you're grasping at straws," he protested. "I think it'd be better just to call the ship."

"I think calling the ship would do us just as much good," I responded.

"And why's that?"

"I'd venture to say that the ship's computer wouldn't do too well in the large amounts of smoke rising from this pit."

"Fine," the Ghost relented. "I'll scan the wall. If I get shot…" Starco extended a gridded beam of blue light that shimmered against the wall. As he did with the door, he took scans from different angles, getting rather close to the wall and then backing up beyond where I was to get several more scans. His scans complete, Starco floated over to me. "Well, it looks like you were right. That wall's thinner than the door, but I'm not sure that's going to make much of a difference."

I had already pulled out Crush and was in the process of attaching a basket of bullets to the gun's underside and pulling the feed. "It's one more chance than we had a minute ago." I shut the feed tray and forced the bolt back, letting the tension slam it forward again and load the first bullet. If Crush had a face, I knew it would have a wild grin stretched all across it.

"Just know that it's not my fault if you fail," Starco warned. The gun seemed to vibrate with excitement in my hands. I braced myself for the recoil and opened fire. The fiery bullets sprayed in a stream of orange that almost looked like a continuation of the fire ushering out of the barrel. Keeping it under control as much as I could, I guided the shots in a general rectangular shape and then retracing it with the leftover bullets. The basket empty and the feed laying in a heap on the floor amongst the casings, I detached the now-useless basket and tossed it to the side, slinging Super Good Advice back over my shoulder instead of having Starco despawn him. The gun jockeyed for position with my shotgun for a minute, but when I pulled Dea's weapon off my back, things seemed to settle down.

I walked up to the wall with the sizzling bullet holes now dotting its once-smooth surface. Nine-tenths of them seemed to connect with a bullet hole on top of it in addition to one on the bottom, exactly what I'd been going for. I walked up to a cluster of rounds closer to the rough top left corner I'd created and peered through. As I had expected, it was pitch black on the other side, but that could partly be attributed to the orange smolder the bullets had left in the doorway. I took a step back and raised a boot, kicking the rectangle in the wall with as much force as I could muster. A solid sound of metal screeching against metal shrieked throughout the immediate area, dissipating into the vastness of this pit. As planned, the piece of wall slid back a few centimeters. I lined up and gave it another kick, resulting in about equal progress. A third kick, a fourth, a charge with the shoulder, and finally, I had a sizeable crevice that I could squeeze myself into. The wall had dented slightly but retained its shape nicely against the beating I just gave it.

The metal now for the most part free of the hinges I created for it, I attempted to twist it various directions to completely remove it. The integrity severely weakened, I didn't find that task terribly difficult. I hefted the now-disconnected piece and tossed it to the side, the screeching sound echoing into the air. Looking at the hole I created, I could see the assortment of cables running laterally, delivering power to the various parts of the facility. "Any objections?" I asked Starco, grabbing Crush off my back once again.

"None that'll deter you."

I connected another box of ammunition to the machine gun and pulled the bolt back. "Good." I opened fire and created another rectangle, snapping the cables with only a few bullets and cutting into the metal wall behind them. Sparks flew as the bullets severed their connection and freed my path. Once I'd made my doorway, I strung a few shots on the outside edges to cut any any cables that dangled stiffly in my way. I tossed the empty box of ammunition and walked toward the hole I'd cut, sweeping away the dead cables with my foot and looking at the wall behind them. I pushed against it and felt it move after some effort. I took a small step back and began charging an orb of energy in my hands. "Let's find the others." I threw my hands forward and unleashed the energy.


	12. The Warmind

**Chapter 11**

 **The Warmind**

 **Huntress Arla Nublier**

 **5 minutes after the "Erasing"...**

Arla gave up trying to pry open the door. It was not going to budge no matter what she tried. Her fingers painfully protested from trying to wedge them into places that did not have a crevice large enough to accommodate them. Tears streaked down her face as reality hit her once again, that Maximus may very well be dead, again. If the erasing was anything like she pictured it, a cylinder of fire that incinerated everything not built to withstand it, then there was no way that he could have survived. She would just have to depend on a mechanical malfunction. She and Charli waited for something to come over the intercom, some sign that the erasing had been successful or had failed, but the years had not likely been kind to the electrical systems and made it a miracle that several places still worked. No such message came, leaving them in the dark in multiple ways. After the "erasing," had commenced, the lights had quickly grown bright enough to be painful and, just as quickly, die out, leaving the pitch black to take over once again.

Guided by her helmet's light, Charli put a hand on Arla's shoulder. "If he's back there, he'll find a way inside," she said calmly. Arla said nothing for a moment, only staring at the door intently, as if her mind was going to force it open. After several seconds, she tore away her gaze and steeled her nerves. "Let's go then," the Huntress said, determined. She gathered herself and her weapons and proceeded down the hallway with Charli in tow. "We need to find the terminal to shut this place down."

"I think I've got a fix," Stargazer reporting, placing a diamond marker on Arla's HUD. "But I must say, I'm picking up some strange chatter over the comms channels."

"What do you mean?" Charli asked.

"Voices. Not Fallen. My guess is the Exo things, but they're speaking in some sort of coded language. Some of the words are in English, but not the majority."

"Could they just be switching languages with each word?" Arla suggested.

"I don't know," Stargazer replied slowly. "If they are, then they're using languages that aren't in my database."

"Can you pinpoint any of their locations?" Charli requested.

"Neither Vern or me could if we tried. They're running an encryption on it that I've never seen before. The data patterns connected to it run a sub-encryption that block out any unauthorized users from accessing their locations." Stargazer stopped talking for a moment while Arla and Charli continued to walk down the corridor, pointing their weapons at any flicker of motion. The Ghost continued after they marked a corner and turned it. "It's fascinating. If we can, I'd like to download the data for it from Caesar's mainframe. It could go a long way to improving our own channels and preventing groups like the Fallen and Cabal from tracking us so easily."

Arla thought it was a good idea, but she had her apprehensions about digging through anything that she wasn't going to be doing in the first place. "As long as it's on that main terminal. If it's not, then we leave without it. I don't want to draw those Exo things to our position."

"I think they're called Sentinels. At least, that's the word that keeps coming up in several languages that is quickly followed by a new voice."

"Makes sense to me," Charli piped up. "How much farther to the terminal?"

"Just a few more turns and we should be right there. Or at least, that's where all the data streams converge. Maybe a server room," Stargazer answered, slightly unsure.

"In that case, I'd expect some heavy resistance. Keep your eyes sharp." Arla and Chalri turned another corner. So far, there had been no sign of any "Sentinels," but Arla wasn't going to say there were anywhere close to the clear yet. That wasn't one of her primary concerns until this place was well on its way to being destroyed.

Arla continued to walk close to the relatively featureless walls, taking her time at any corners before peering around it to ensure that nothing was about to jump out at them. Since they had left the silo, the temperature had dropped significantly. The air also had a metallic hint to its scent, as if it had been released from a container after being stored for an extended period. It was something Arla had experienced aboard various ships when, as an Awoken soldier, served for a brief period on a Naval vessel. They generally tried to disguise the slightly unpleasant scent, but when the system reset itself every day, there was a fifteen minute window that made left the air raw. Nobody noticed. Such was the Awoken military machine that had existed all those years ago.

A foriegn footstep ripped Arla out of her thoughts. Instinctively, she raised a fist and put her finger on the trigger. "Hold," Arla ordered Charli. Their Ghosts shut off their lights, leaving them cloaked in darkness and depending on thermal readings. Both Guardians crouched down and kept their aim down the hallway as they crept towards the upcoming intersection. Another footstep echoed off the metallic, grated floor. "Watch our six," Arla said to Charli.

"On it," the Titan replied, followed quickly by a shuffle of her feet. "Clear six," Charli quietly announced after a few seconds.

Arla switched to the custom sidearm Heksis had made for her. A firearm, but, at the flick of a switch near the hammer, a grappling hook with nearly invisible wire. The projectile on the end that would hook into almost anything looked more like a needle that flayed itself out once it came in contact. Thus far, she'd been able to cut through rock, armor, and metal less than an inch thick. She held the gun in her right hand and crossed underneath it with her combat knife. She listened for the footstep again, not moving until she heard it. As expected, the slow and heavy step echoed off the wall not a second later. Tapping Charli's shoulder, Arla stood up and pressed her back against the wall, sliding over to the edge and peering around the corner. As she did so, a large amalgamation of red, orange, and yellow jutted out of the blue background about 8 feet away. With the small glance she had, she guessed it was standing guard but couldn't be too sure. There was little chance that the two of them would sneak by unnoticed, the sound Charli's armor made would be the giveaway and death of them.

Arla tapped Charli on the shoulder and placed a finger vertically over where her mouth was, signaling for her to be quiet. She then motioned for her to stay with her left hand while still keeping a partial hold on the knife. The Titan nodded and prepared to hold her position. Arla looked back over the corner and confirmed that the Sentinel's back was turned. Her heart pounded quickly as another shot of adrenaline surged through her veins. Keeping her sidearm aimed at the Sentinel, Arla silently stepped out of cover. Just as quietly, she took another two steps and found herself in the middle of the hallway. Suddenly, a voice called out, "Intruder spotted. Rectifying." Hurried steps bounded down the hallway directly behind Arla. A pair of energy streaks screamed on either side of her face as Arla froze at the sound of the words. Acting on instinct, Arla shot the grapping hook into the first Sentinel's back and flicked the trigger forward for the cord to pulll her along with it before her target even recognized what had just lodged into its back. En route, Arla positioned herself so that her feet would go straight into its back and flicked the gun back into its firearm mode. Springing off the Sentinel's back, she unloaded a single bullet into the back of its head and retracted the hook, rocketing towards the second Sentinel as it approached the intersection. She collided with it in a fraction of a second and knocked it to the ground.

With inhuman strength and precision, the Exo flipped Arla over onto her back and pinned her at the chest with its knees, driving its entire weight into keeping her on the floor. The Sentinel quickly threw a pair of punches that Arla barely escaped from with a timely throw of her head to the left and then the right. Arla's head spinning, she couldn't afford to let it, she swung her knife laterally across the Exo's throat, following it with the butt of her pistol. Its head snapped back and small blotches of fluids covered her HUD as Arla flipped the pistol back into its natural position and unloaded a single bullet into its chin and through the head. The Sentinel fell onto its back, dead.

Arla got to her feet. "We're clear," she announced to Charli. The Titan turned the corner with her gun raised, but when she saw Arla, she lowered it and slid it onto her back. "Not sure we can do that yet," Arla said. "Don't know how many more of these things there are."

"Impressive display," Charli complimented, pulling out her rifle again.

Arla smiled within her helmet. "Thanks," she replied, spinning the pistol on her finger and placing it in a holster at her thigh. "It's what experience and a little agility can give you. I know you haven't seen much yet, but I hope you realize that Guardians are not your average soldier."

"You can say that again." She paused for a moment before asking, "Why didn't you pull any of that back when we faced the Hive." Charli's voice sounded curious.

"Call it instinct and a bit of improvisation." Arla started walking towards the waypoint Stargazer set on her HUD, but Charli grabbed her arm before she got away.

"What about your...injury?"

Arla unconsciously rubbed the part where the Knight's blade sliced her chestplate, feeling the bruise beneath the repaired armor. It was still tender, but as long as she didn't overexert herself or take another slice to the gut, it would heal just fine in the next couple of days. What she wouldn't give for some of Dea's nanites or whatever those things were back on Mars. The maneuver she'd just pulled got awfully close to making the area explode in pain, leaving it a dull throb that Arla barely noticed due to the adrenaline for the moment. "It's fine," the Huntress assured. "I've fought with worse before."

"If you say so…" Charli nervously replied. She was concerned but for good reason. Arla could understand that she treated her teammates like family, something as dangerous as it was helpful. She'd personally seen how that sort of relationship could practically destroy a person, and with Lee's passing, she'd upheld her promise to keep her composure and mourn, for the most part, in private.

"I do," Arla said, pulling out the Hard Light rifle on her back. "Now, let's keep moving before more of those things show up. It shouldn't be too far."

The pair of Guardians continued down the hall on alert for any sign of movement that would alert them to more of those Sentinels. As they walked through the dark corridors by Ghost light, no such threat arose. Arla theorized that most of them had been deactivated or destroyed long ago, and that the ones they'd run into were stragglers that had miraculously survived the years since this place was supposedly ditched in favor of Rasputin or whatever succeeded this version of the warmind. Perhaps, the Fallen had taken them and were in the process of reprogramming them, a move that would make them even more dangerous than they already were and not a favorable outcome, but should it be true, Arla knew that they'd be ready for whatever they had to face.

Within the next twenty minutes of walking, Arla and Charli found a circular room with a transparent floor that was made of something thicker and much more durable than glass but looked just like it. The lighting inside was extremely dim emergency lighting that left most of it cloaked in shadow, but the two Guardians could still see some things. Metal pillars sloped with the curved edges of the almost spherical room until culminating at a single point at the ceiling. Below the floor was a multitude of black towers at least five feet tall a piece, totaling in probably close to forty or fifty. Arla couldn't tell what they were in specific, but something told her that that was what culminated into Caesar. To their right, there was a console with a keyboard that looked to curve around its user. The room was frigid, enough for their suits to amp up their thermal protection as they stepped in. For a few seconds, Arla's breath fogged up the bottom part of her HUD.

Charli looked down at the blinking, metal towers below them. "I'd say that looks like Caesar's brain." Arla internally agreed.

"Would you say that this is his crown then?" Vern, Charli's Ghost, asked.

"I'm not sure the real Caesar had a crown like you're thinking," Stargazer replied.

"Either way," Arla announced. "Let's get to work. Stargazer you think that you can get into that console over there?"

"Already on it." The purple Ghost flashed in and quickly hovered over to the machine, scanning the system before shooting an intermittent beam of blue-white light at the console. Charli walked to the center of the room, pacing slowly in a circle with her weapon lowered but ready should something show up. Stargazer drew back from the console. "Hey Arla," she called. "It requires an organic process."

"Coming," the Huntress responded, sliding Hard Light back onto its magnetic lock. "How far were you able to get?"

"The Welcome screen. The security past it is set up so that the Sentinels wouldn't be able to access it."

Arla approached the screen and stepped on the metal pressure plate. There was a hiss and a small buzz as a blue strip of light scanned her from her feet to the top of her head. The console and keyboard sudden began adjusting itself to fit her height and physique, making it all the more accessible without much movement. The screen was blood red and read "Place finger here," indicating the white outline of a box set below the text in the center of the screen. Arla glanced at her Ghost. "That's it?"

"As far as I can tell. Don't know for certain though," Stargazer responded. "We'll see when we get in."

Arla removed her glove and pressed her forefinger on the screen, holding the pressure until the screen faded away. She pulled her hand back and replaced the glove, clenching her fist a couple times to make sure it was on her hand properly. A few seconds later, a screen loaded up bearing various filenames and command keys. "We need to set a shortcut for the system to self-destruct before we do anything," Arla suggested. "Link it to a button or something. The Fallen can't ever get their hands on this technology if they get in."

"I'd say that's pretty likely now that there's a gaping hole in that silo thing," Charli added. "All they'd have to do is find it."

The screen began to flick quickly through several pages. It finally settled on one, and Stargazer asked. "It wants a time limit, minimum five minutes. Probably enough time for its power source to overheat and overload several other systems."

Arla did some rough math in her head, trying to figure out how long it would take them to get out of here. She factored in the ground they'd covered and how long it would take to run it if they stayed below a full sprint for most of it. "Give us 20 minutes to get clear. Sync that timer up to my HUD when we trigger it." Stargazer responded by placing a timer on the rightmost spot in the center of her HUD, leaving her field of view unhindered.

"Can you start extracting files while I dig for some things?"

"Got it. I'll let you know if I find something interesting," the Ghost affirmed. Arla began to tap at a furious pace through countless screens, looking for the one bit of information she absolutely needed to know. After scrolling through the assets screen for several minutes, she found it: the exact listing of every Sentinel unit in the facility as well as the exact area they were in. "Hey Charli," Arla announced. The Titan was sitting in the middle of the room with her weapons on the back. She turned around at the sound of her name. "I found a listing of the Sentinel units here."

"What's the news?" she called back.

"Well, they're all either reading KIA or Unknown. It's almost like the system isn't even allowed to know where they are."

"Have you checked that against the logs? They may have removed them when they deactivated the place after all," the Titan suggested.

"Funny you should mention that," Stargazer said suddenly.

"Why's that?" the Huntress asked.

"Well, it seems that the AI never actually went rogue according to the logs. Some unauthorized groups tried to break into it, alerting the Sentinels when they actually succeeded."

"Got any details on the attack?" Alra inquired, intrigued.

"Well for one, it didn't work. The system has several pictures of the intruders and was able to identify them as members of the Allied Earth Army."

"Just how old is this place?"

"Schematics suggest that construction completed before the collapse began. What's even more interesting was the commanding officer in charge of the raid." On the screen, she brought up a picture from a security camera featuring a pair of Exos walking side by side down one of the corridors. They both wore white armor and held large black rifles. On the leftmost one, blue paint, yellow eyes, and a very familiar face.

"Maximus," Charli said aloud in disbelief, appearing at Arla's side. "He never said anything about knowing this place to me. Did you know Arla?"

"No," the Huntress replied in equal disbelief. "He's never mentioned it."

"Well before you both go on thinking he's hiding something," Stargazer interrupted. "I think there's something you ought to know."

Charli walked off and began pacing again, much quicker this time. "Go on," the Titan prodded.

"According to logs pertaining to the raid, Caesar fired an electromagnetic pulse to knock out the Exos in the group as well as any electronic-based weapons they had. According to the Sentinels' maintenance records, the ones caught in the pulse experienced a severe loss in memory in addition to major malfunctions over a couple days." The Ghost was quiet for a moment as everyone digested what she'd just said. Stargazer continued, "This is only an assumption based on the Sentinels after the pulse, but I'm fairly certain that Maximus suffered similar consequences. He may not have any memories before it. If he does have any memory before then, it'll most likely be fragmented and unclear."

Arla placed a hand on what would be her chin if not for the helmet. "Maximus told me a story of one of his mentors during his early time in the AEA. I think the latter is a little more plausible. How strong was the EMP?"

"The logs don't say, but it was obviously enough to cause lasting damage. Let's just not provoke the system to put one on us. It would scramble me and your suit in an instant. Both of you would be in some deep trouble if we found any of the Sentinels that were somehow unaffected."

"Let's get the info we need and blow this place to smithereens then," Charli stated with finality, growing slightly anxious.

Arla turned to her Ghost at the console. "Have you been able to cancel its access to its armaments?"

"Working on it. I'm going to test an override that should hopefully do the trick." The Ghost was silent for a moment. "That's funny," it said aloud, backing away from the console momentarily before extending its beam once again. Several silent seconds passed as Arla continued to tap through several screens, trying to gather as much information as possible about the site and find what the Fallen had been able to tap into. Charli continued to pace, deep in thought, in the center of the room, stopping every few seconds to glance at Arla or at one of the pillars or just stare off into space for a second or two before snapping back and pacing again. "That is strange, extremely strange."

Charli stopped pacing again. "What is?" Something about her body language said that something was bothering her.

"I can't find any record of the Fallen accessing anything. None of this data has been accessed or updated since Caesar was deactivated. Its access to armaments was revoked centuries ago, and it seems like Rasputin's keeping...wait a second. Charli, find one of those Sentinels and bring it back." The Titan dashed off into the hallway without a second thought, as if she were thinking the exact same thing. Arla began to feel uneasy. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I think we may have just ticked off a sleeping giant."

"What do you mean?"

"I did some digging into the Sentinels. They're running Rasputin's OS, not Caesar's. Which means we may have just angered the Old Man."

Arla walked away from the console with her head thrown back, pacing in the middle of the room just as Charli did. "This is not good. Does he know it was us?"

The Ghost backed away from the console and hovered in front of Arla's face. It looked down and shook its shell as it spoke. "I don't know. That's why I'm going to get a complete scan on one of those things. See if their feeds were linked directly to Rasputin."

"And we just sent Charli to go haul a metal soldier by herself!" Arla realized.

"Let's go!" The Ghost needlessly said.

Arla turned towards the door and barely took a step before a different voice shouted, "GET DOWN!" Suddenly, a heavy mass crashed into her side and forced her to the ground. As she fell, a streak of red ignited the air with the sound of shattering glass. Arla's body suddenly exploded in pain as the weight drove her into the ground, her body and soul seemingly searing in pain just before unconsciousness enveloped her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Titan Charli Hendricks**

'Geez, this thing is heavy,'Charli thought. Using her armor's generous strength assistance, Charli hefted one of the dead Sentinels on her back. All of the corridors looked the same to her, but Vern seemed to know his in some way unbeknownst to Charli, perhaps it was that he was a machine that could track and store data far more complex than her mind would ever been able to comprehend. Charli was able to keep some pace in her step, moving at just under her normal walking speed, but her footsteps were about three times as heavy, her legs burning by the time she recognized the hallway that ultimately led to the circular room with the terminal.

The Titan was on alert but exposed as she cautiously walked past corners that they had taken a minute or two to watch and then turn when Arla was sure that nothing was going to ambush them. The cover they used, like the walls and crevices between pillars, was not going to be much help with the body draped across both shoulders. She initially tried to hold the body across one of her shoulders and hold a weapon with the other, but the sleek metal plates covering the Sentinel slid across the equally smooth plates of her own armor and produced an extremely unpleasant sound as it slid in addition to a gut-wrenching screech when it hit the ground. By wrapping an arm around its legs and the other about its neck, Charli was able to keep it from sliding for the most part other than the occasional adjustment in her grip. The primary problem with her strategy though, one that Vern ensured to point out, was that she did not have any way to hold a weapon and carry the Sentinel.

Just when Charli thought that she was in the clear, she heard thumping footsteps coming from a corridor ahead. A second pair of steps, these much faster echoed behind her. Her heart joined the throng too as Charli debated whether or not to ditch the Sentinel and grab a weapon. The running steps sounded uncomfortably close as a couple seconds ticked by with her just standing in the middle of the hall with that robot draped on her shoulders. Giving into her instincts, Charli released the Sentinel and grabbed her pistol while spinning on her heel.

The world slowed down as she saw three streaks of blue scream by her head. She raised her weapon and fired a single shot just as the figure came into view. The shot went right into what Charli thought was the figure's shoulder, causing it to flinch but continue moving although slightly slower. There was an uncomfortable screech behind her, and the Titan snapped her head and weapon around to face the new threat, but it was then that she realized it was a Sentinel with a hole in the center of its chest, neck, and then the head. She snapped back to the first figure and found herself close to pressing a pistol in Maximus' face.

Startled, the Titan took a panicked step backward and tripped on her own foot, crashing to the ground with a loud _thud_ and releasing her weapon in the process. Maximus extended a friendly hand. Accepting the hand, Maximus pulled her onto her feet and handed her the dropped pistol. "You always seem to have me at gunpoint," he joked.

Charli adjusted her helmet. "Yeah, sorry about that, but let's call it even since you've missed all the fun." The Titan leaned down to pick up the Sentinel she dropped, but Maximus stepped in.

"Here, let me get that," he said kindly, effortlessly picking up the Sentinel and throwing it over his left shoulder. "So what happened?" Charli drew her rifle and started following the marker Vern placed on her HUD.

"I could ask the same of you. We thought you were dead. What happened?" Her voice was full of surprise.

"In short, I don't think this facility's wiring has aged well. Whatever the 'erasing' is, it didn't work. Before that, I don't know what happened. I followed the marker Starco put on my HUD, and it led me right to one of these Sentinel things. Nearly had me too."

"It goes without saying that we've run into a few ourselves." Charli motioned for him to follow her as she started walking the way that she'd come. As they walked at a rather brisk pace, one question continued to nag Charli. "Hey Maximus."

Charli looked over her shoulder to make sure she had his attention. "Yeah?" the Exo replied.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Maximus picked up his pace slightly and got closer to Charli. "Go right ahead. Arla's probably a better source of answers, but I'll certainly try."

"What's the deal with Rasputin? I get what it, he, is, but last time I had heard about it was in a textbook before I enlisted. The authors said that it was operational at one point, but ultimately failed for a myriad of reasons. Before I left, Arla spoke as though it was online and working."

The Warlock was quiet for a few seconds before saying, "I'm not terribly sure myself. I had heard similar rumors throughout my time in the Allied Earth Army, but most of us believed that it was just dormant, and since all the engineers who could open it were dead, we believed that it was a fruitless effort to get in, especially when it can summon death from orbit."

"Hmm…" Charli said. She couldn't find any sign of misinformation in him, but he was inorganic and mechanical, so his metal poker face would be say the least. As far as Charli was concerned, there was almost now way she could tell whether or not Maximus was lying, so she decided to take everything he said with a grain of salt, believing him but not at the same time.

"You don't trust me?" he asked suddenly.

Caught off guard, Charli tried to cover her mind's tracks. "Of course I do," she lied. "I'd be crazy if I didn't."

"It's fine," he assured her. "I know I'm new to you, so I don't expect you to trust me right away. Just know this, I've got your back."

"And I've got yours. Let's get back to Arla."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Charli led Maximus down the same series of corridors she and Arla had traversed not too long ago, but the farther they went, the more unnerved wary Charli felt. Something about this place was off. That signal they were chasing shut off when the ship went down or at least went quieter. The ship went down almost too easily. While Charli was an excellent pilot with an amazing reusme of high-profile missions under her belt back on Mars where she established herself, in addition to her squadron, as a real difference maker behind the stick, sweeping abandoned bases was new to her, but her instincts told her something was definitely up.

There was absolute silence as they approached the server room. No footsteps, no tapping of keys, not even the sound of a breath. Charli's nerves began to grip her. Suddenly, Maximus was beside her, burden slumped on the floor behind them, with that yellow rifle of his drawn and ready to fire. "You sense it too?" the Titan asked, garnering a small nod from the Warlock as they posted up on either side of the door. Charli checked her magazine and pushed it back into the weapon. Maximus raised a hand and counted down from three with his fingers. When the hand became a fist, he swung his way through the door with Charli following almost immediately behind him. They swept every angle, marking every direction quickly before seeing Arla in a crumpled heap in the center of the room. "Arla!" Maximus shouted as he sprinted over to her, sliding onto his knees and dropping his weapon as he tried to get a read on her. Meanwhile, Charli continued to sweep the room, pushed by whatever had done this to her teammate. The Titan went about checking behind every pillar as Starco scanned Arla's body. After about a minute of tension, Starco announced, "She's just unconscious, but something's not...oh."

Charli checked another pillar, one of the remaining five. As with the others, there was nothing hiding behind it in the near blackness that encompassed them. She'd been using her helmet's light so as not to endanger Vern, something Zavala highly encouraged in an AO. "Oh what?" she called out. It was then that Charli found a black shape. Before the others could respond, she reported, "I found something." It was alien yet familiar. Two-foot long barrel, circular battery, gold coloration, looped and hollow stock. This had to be a Wire Rifle, slighlty altered from what Charli was accustomed to, but it was most definitely the Fallen's version of a Marksman's Rifle. "I think I've got a Wire Rifle over here." Pointing her weapon along the cirlce of light her helmet provided, she looked up and saw a vent with the cover removed. In it, a Fallen Vandal draped in a green cloak hung with its arms and head down, stains of its dark blood covering the wall above it. The Vandal looked different though, the armor more advanced and the creature looked more experienced, more like a Captain or beyond than a standard journeyman Vandal. Charli turned back to the rifle, placing her hand on the barrel. It was definitely not warm, but it certainly not room temperature either. It had been shot recently, probably just as recently as its former owner. "The barrel's still warm and we've got a dead Vandal in a vent. Does Arla have any new burn marks?" Vern whisked away the rifle into his storage, shooting a thought to Charli that it may prove useful.

Starco called back before his Guardian. "I'm not seeing anything new. Her shields and armor seem untouched but…" Charli tuned out his voice, focusing on her hunch that there was still danger present. She felt as though unseen eyes were driving holes through her shields and plating, watching her every move without...Charli swung an arm back, catching something and then quickly overpowering whatever she caught. Using her leverage, Charli brought whatever it was to the front and deposited it painfully onto its back, slamming the figure hard enough into the glass floor to leave several cracks. Wasting no time, she drove a knee into her prisoner's chest and rifle into its face. At the end of her sights was a white Exo with blue eyes wearing similarly colored armor, although several shades darker. Suddenly, two hands reached beneath her arms and pulled her away from the Exo before she could pull the trigger.

Maximus grabbed the other Exo's arm and helped her onto her feet. "What are you doing here?" he asked sternly.

She spoke in an accent that Charli could not quite place. The Exo was defintiely in some pain as her back was heavily arched as Maximus continued to hold her arm. "My intel was wrong. You need to get out here now." her voice was smooth and knowledgable but full of panic. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Charli recovered quickly and grabbed her rifle as she got to her feet, aiming it at the stranger's face as she slowly walked forward. She didn't care about whether Maximus knew her or not. Arla was unconscious for reasons Charli didn't know, and as far as she was concerned, this was the only living thing in the room while she'd been out. She popped out of nowhere and tried to strike her from behind. This stranger was hostile whether or not Maximus knew it. "What wasn't supposed to happen?" Charli demanded as she stepped closer.

Maximus held out an open palm. "Look, Charli. There are some things you won't understand. Just put down the weapon. Dea's not an enemy."

Charli was only a couple feet out when she stopped. "Then what was she doing in the shadows?" she said through gritted teeth.

This "Dea" stared right at Charli, her eyes seemingly piercing her armor and looking directly into her eyes. "I was saving your hide. That assassin is not the only one here. Listen, you two need to get out of here before you wind up like Arla." The stranger let go of Maximus' hand and took a step towards Charli. The Titan responded by brandishing her weapon. Dea held up her hands. "I don't want to hurt you." She straightened her back. "Besides, you've proven your point." She looked at Maximus. "Look this place isn't what I first thought it was."

Charli kept her weapon raised but took her eye out of the sight, still wary. "What do you mean?" Maximus asked.

She snapped her head around towards Maximus. "YOU WERE SET UP!" she exclaimed, emphasizing each word. There was a short silence as both the Titan and Warlock were stunned by the sudden outcry.. " _I_ was set up," she continued almost at a whisper. "It was the Falen broadcasting that signal, not the prototype. Caesar never got past the final stages of its trial run before Rasputin was fully developed, and Caesar began plotting to attack it. Before they shut this place down, they edited the logs, made it seem like this place was much more important than it really was." Her voice sounded desperate and genuine, but Charli still thought it could be an act. While it was a childish mantra, she still thought 'Stranger Danger' still held quite a heavy truth to it.

"Why would they do something like that?"

"They were getting overrun by the Fallen and needed something to distract them. Those pirates need resources and weapons. If they could obtain an army, then they wouldn't have to send their people to die. What other reason is there? We're all just trying to survive, and now I put that in jeopardy." The stranger sunk to her knees, pleading. "It's all my fault."

Maximus approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Charli warned. If they were set up once, Dea could be setting them up again with this act.

Maximus looked at Charli for a moment before turning back to the white Exo on her knees. "Listen," he said. "Dea's done a lot more for the world than she'll ever get credit for. Without her, we wouldn't be at the point we're at."

Dea slowly rose to her feet while he was talking, not taking her eyes off the floor. She seized one of his arms. "Then believe me when I tell you to get out of here. All three of you are being hunted. Get back to the Tower and don't leave for any reason. I wouldn't even risk going to the City."

Charli lowered her weapon. If she was going to strike, she would've done it by now. Clearly this Exo had something shorting out, spouting off all this nonsense about how they were being hunted. The Fallen were nowhere near that smart, being a pilot taught her that, they just had to overrun you and catch you off guard. In a game of wits, humanity would always win. She walked over to Arla and knelt by her crumpled form, ensuring that she was still breathing. "If you're not our enemy, then who did this?"

Dea pointed to the Vandal dangling from the vent. "It shot at her just as I arrived. I was able to tackle her just in the nick of time but…" Her voice trailed off into complete silence. Charli stood up and turned around, jumping backwards at the sound of a loud crunch beneath her boot. Curious, she returned to her knees and investigated the tiny shards of metal she had just stepped on. Most of them were sharp, jagged, and variable in size, but one of the pieces was not like the others, differing from the purple of the shards by being black all the way around. The odd piece out was spherical minus the large chunk taken out across the top of its smotth surface. Charli raised the piece closer to her face, inspecting it closely. She turned it around and saw a dark diamond shape in the sphere. Immediately, she dropped it and recoiled. Searching through the metal shards, she confirmed her suspicions.

Charli turned to face the other two. "You just couldn't get here in time for her Ghost," Charli concluded. Charli's heart sank as Dea's head nodded. There was a solemn silence that gripped the room. The Titan looked over at Arla's form and couldn't shake the feeling that she was looking at someone who was already dead, the breaths she drew the final ones. This place began to feel more and more like a grave. "What happens to her now?" she asked.

Dea walked over to Arla and picked up her limp form, her composure regained as quickly as it had been lost. "We need to get out of here before more of those assassins show up. They could be anywhere."

Charli remphasized her question. "What happens to _Arla_?" She looked directly into the stranger's blue eyes, seeing what she thought was cold and inhuman ability and thinking behind them.

"I...don't know," she relented. "I've never seen a Guardian outlive their Ghost. She may wake up; she may never at all. If she does, I have no idea whether or not all of her will still be there."

"She's not turning out like Bishop," Maximus asserted, checking his weapons. "If that ship was a front to get assassins in here, then we need to focus on finding a way out. Starco, are the ships still there?"

'Who's Bishop?' Charli almost asked, but Starco replied first. "Yes, but our scanners are picking up nearby Fallen activity. The ships are jamming their scanners, but if they make visual contact, then that's all she wrote."

"Then there's no time to waste," Charli concluded.

Maximus was the first to leave with Dea behind him, and Charli guarding the rear. Dea began to direct him on the quickest way out, calling out a turn after a few intersections passed. Charli would look back every few seconds. As they progressed away from the server room, everything got darker and darker, the air seemed to take on a certain malevolence as if something were hiding in any nearby crevices waiting to strike. Charli couldn't help but feel uneasy and on edge. Three trios of shots suddenly rang across the walls. "Sentinel down," Maximus reported. Other than that and Dea's directions, nobody spoke. Charli listened to her heartbeat and breathing, the quick thumps and deep draws that accompanied the silence.

Long minutes and carefully calculated steps passed until Dea finally announced, "This is it! Through the door." Charli turned around to see a thick metal door. Complex patterns of rods ran across its smooth surfaces, combining into a heavy lock that would make it almost impossible to open with brute force. The stranger turned to Charli and handed Arla to her. "Hold her for me," she said, dropping the Huntress into her unprepared arms. Charli nearly dropped her with the suddeness of the exchange, instead dropping her weapon. Though she couldn't see anything, Charli listened to the metal rods on the door shift suddenly and release violent blasts of sound that did nothing to help keep their presence hidden. If any of those assassins were down the hall, they certainly knew where everyone was. "How much longer you two?" Charli quietly hissed, not diguising her angst.

"One more lock and…" Dea reported. There was a sharp metallic sound, and dim light burst into the dark corridor. "It's open ! Go, go, go!" Dea took Arla out of Charli's hands and rushed through the door after Maximus. Charli bent down, picked up her weapon, began backpedaling towards the door. Just as she did, the light seemed to distort in one area ahead and to the right. At first, Charli thought it was a smudge and continued backpedaling, but just as she reached the door, the smudge jumped out and a red circle of light appeared near the top of it. Charli immediately opened fire just as she made it to the doorway. The smudge absorbed several bullets before toppling to the ground, pulling its own trigger as it fell sideways. A red streak of energy smased directly into Charli's leg, causing her to fall back as she crossed the threshold. Maximus immediately threw the door closed and pulled down a lever that extended a severly oxidized gate.

"You alright?" Maximus asked, helping Charli up. Her leg screamed in protest but eventually accustomed itself to the strain.

"Yeah," she repsonded. "Leg's a little screwed up, but I can walk." Looking around, Charli realized that the door had been guarding a lift, hopefully one that would take them to the surface. Judging by its larger than usual size, it was some sort of cargo lift, a somewhat reassuring sign. Charli locked eyes with each of her companions. Their eyes seemed to want something from her, but she couldn't tell what. It made her feel a little self-conscious. "Is something wrong?"

Dea spoke up first. "The facility's power grid isn't able to run the elevator on its own. It needs a little assistance."

Charli squinted her eyes in perplexion, trying to figure out what that meant. Before she could come up with an answer, Maximus added, "We need you to give the lift a jump." The pieces quickly connected in Charli's mind. The Titan slid her weapon onto her back and clenched both fists. Arcs of electricity blanketed her arms as Dea tore away a piece of metal, revealing several cables that Charli could only assume were part of the power supply. "No problem," Charli said, grasping as many cords as possible with her hands.

The lift shuddered and came to life. The lights came on, and Maximus immediately punched a button that sent them moving upwards at a rather brisk pace that caused everyone but Dea, carrying Arla still, to momentarily lose their footing. Despite that, Charli managed to keep a stable grip on the cords as the lift shot up towards the surface.

Maximus broke the silence. It sounded more like he was thinking out loud than giving out orders. "When these doors open, we need to get out of here. I'm going to take Arla's ship. Starco you've got ours." He looked at the white Exo. "Dea, you're with me." He then looked at the Titan. "Charli, can you still fly your ship?"

Charli looked back at him. "Of course I can," she said confidently, trying to disguise the discomfort that was her leg. She wouldn't really need her leg to pilot the ship, but that didn't make the pain any less difficult. Back then, a shot like that would've probably torn her leg off. The lift halted and Maximus threw open the door. Natural light and the roar of rocket engines burst through. She let go of the cables and followed the others through the door. Outside there was a landing platform that had once been covered by sand, but that sand was currently whipping about their heads due to the ships' proximity. Straight ahead was hers, and she'd never been so happy to see such a hunk of scrap metal.


	13. Repercussions

**Chapter 12**

 **Repercussions**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

We had to tell Charli. Thankfully, Dea understood that. I had seen the signs that Charli didn't fully trust Arla and me, and I could understand that at first, but when I detected her distrust back in Caesar, I knew there were roots deeper than just being new. That Ghost of hers must have read the mine and Arla's files and then the one on the Black Garden. Probably warned her that we were hiding something, hiding Dea, from eyes that should not know she was here and helping us. However, her showing up while we were investigating Caesar most likely confirmed what suspicions she and Vern shared. Placing blind trust in her not to tell, I admitted to Dea's involvement in not only the Black Garden but also the operations before.

The Titan remained deadpan as I told her most of what really happened in the Garden, taking some liberties as to specifics best left unknown to any who hadn't experienced that cursed place. When we had finished, her voice was gentle and understanding, but she didn't want to talk about the Garden. Instead, she asked how Arla was doing. I told her that she seemed to be fine, but I alerted medical teams at the Tower just in case, that they'd likely hold her overnight or until she regained consciousness, however long that may be. I wondered what was running through her mind and if she actually trusted Arla and me now. The two of them had built a nice chemistry together, and I feared that my confession would mess it up.

What we did wasn't illegal by any means, but we certainly had not properly consulted with the Vanguard on such outside help which certainly made things difficult to explain, and I'm fairly certain they would not like it that we had an Agent of the Nine with us. I'm sure the Vanguard knew their skill, but if said agent died while with us, the Nine would probably hold that over their heads as some sort of leverage or blackmail, find some way to make it seem like it was the Guardian's fault and, by default, theirs. If I'm being completely honest with myself though, I can see how Dea could get killed on the battlefield, but I don't see that happening while she has anything to say about it.

As we approached the Tower, Dea disappeared without even a parting word. One second she was there, and then the next she was gone. By now, I was used to it, but I was left with more questions than answers, especially when she tried to explain what caused her to come to our aid and how she found out. The first part was simple: Caesar had been an expertly planned trap laid out by the House of Illusion. One of their operatives had infiltrated a House of Kings craft, and paraded as the CO until Charli shot it down. At that point, the other operatives under its command, three to our knowledge, dispatched themselves about the facility and began activating what few Sentinels remained and using them to hunt us down. Dea killed two of the goons while watching Charli and Arla's backs from the shadows and then the Captain just before it shot Arla. She then waited to ambush the final Illusion assassin while waiting for me to regroup with Arla. Given that she had never met or seen Charli, Dea thought that she was an imposter and just about attacked her but did not anticipate her instincts. Charli killed the last one as she was backing into the lift.

The second part is what got extremely complicated. In the time between Charli and I arriving and Stargazer's destruction, Dea tried to figure out exactly what Caesar was. Caesar was indeed an experimental version of Rasputin that wound up never being fully completed. When Rasputin was finally completed and turned on, it found the facility and absorbed its assets to do its bidding which meant that the Sentinels were under its control when the Skiff crashed. Whether or not they still were when we got in there was another question. After all, dead assassins tell no tales, so we'll never know. Truth be told, we should've been tipped off when the Kell Code gave us the location and when the signal dropped after the Skiff's destruction, something Dea made sure to scold us for not paying attention to. I didn't really have a retort though. My mind was on whether or not Arla was alright. This certainly the first time I'd seen her get hurt, but this very well could be the last. As we broke the Earth's atmosphere, I looked behind me and saw her laying in the ICU chamber. Starco insisted we put here there just in case. After all we'd been through, neither of us had been able to protect the other despite what we'd promised. I felt guilty and disgusted. I found myself focusing on "what if…" not really paying close attention to the fact that we'd all gotten out.

The Tower loomed in the distance as we approached it from behind, the moonrise imminent somewhere in the pastel sky. My ship went straight to the Hangar while Charli and I made a slow loop around it. In the plaza, we could see a group of five people gathered. Two held either side of what looked like a stretcher while the one fiddled with attached panels, and the other stood tall. The final figure stood mostly with his arms behind his back, staring down our ships as we passed. As we descended and lowered the ramp to get out, I noticed that the final form was Commander Zavala, and his blue face was screwed up in a scowl. The medical team immediately rushed in and grabbed Arla, dashing her to the infirmary before I had even exited the craft.

Starco despawned my weapons and helmet as I walked off the ramp. Looking to my left, Charli was already on the ground, her auburn hair slightly dark with drying sweat. Her face was still serious, concerned. I couldn't read about what, but she certainly did not make eye contact with me. Zavala's eyes watched the doctors disappear into a lift and then settled on me. "We have much to discuss," he stated sternly. He then spun tightly on his heel and began walking towards the stairs that led to the Vanguard's chambers without another word.

He silently led us into the same room that we'd had our intense discussion about the House of Illusion's existence. None of the other Vanguard were present as we entered the room, confusing me for a moment as I tried to piece together why he pulled us aside as soon as we got off. The furniture in the room had been rearranged, now consisting of very few chairs and a central desk. My thoughts wandered to tonight however. Either myself or Charli was going to watch Arla overnight in case she woke up, but neither of us looked forward to breaking the news. There was only one way to take news like that…

The Titan Vanguard sat down at the desk, pens and other materials organized neatly and pushed off to either side of the desk, leaving the center with a clear view of his imposing figure. Zavala's commanding voice shook me out of my thoughts. It was its usual boom, but a bit quieter. He sat up straight for a moment and then sighed. "What were you two thinking?" he asked, rubbing two gloved fingers on each of his temples. "Of all the things I expected you guys to do, I certainly did not expect this."

I was confused. "Commander, if you don't mind, do you think that we could take these matters up another day? Both of us would like to be by Arla's side when she wakes up."

His face remained stern. "Certainly not. The Speaker told me to talk to both of you, and that's exactly I'm going to do, unlike the both of you."

"What?" I asked.

"Maximus, you and your team have been going on unsanctioned ops that, until this point, have yielded promising and positive results. I acknowledge that everyone is entitled to making mistakes, that's part of learning, but when the repercussions are this big, these mistakes are close to unforgivable."

Charli leaned forward in her chair. "Repercussions? What did we do? Save your lives?"

Zavala looked at me as if I were stupid. "Hardly. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be."

Charli and I exchanged confused looks, the first eye contact she'd given me since being on our ships. She turned back to Zavala. "I think I speak for both of us when I say we have no idea what's happened."

Zavala's hands moved from his temples to his eyes, the exhaustion in them becoming more and more apparent. This man hadn't gotten any sleep for probably the last day or so it seemed. "Fine, I'll buy into your little game." Charli tried to speak up, but I stopped her before she did. "What you two just did was break into and attack one of Rasputin's bunkers. Albeit a sister branch of its operations, the Warmind does not take an unprovoked attack lightly, especially when it already has to fend off the Fallen in the area. By busting a hole in one of its missile silos, you allowed the Fallen a way into something they previously had no chance of getting into."

Charli butted in before I could stop her this time. "FYI, there was nothing for them to take. Besides, it was the Fallen, the House of Illusion, that set a trap. They lured us there with a signal that looked to be coming from a prototype warmind called Caesar."

Zavala looked at her disapprovingly. "So you're saying you raided the complex and hacked its systems because the Fallen lured you there?"

"I, uh…" Charli sat back quietly and fidgeted in her seat.

"What she meant to say was that we had reason to believe the House of Kings was going to make a move on the base and hack it, so we acted preemptively to deal with the threat before they could get in. In the course of destroying the Skiff, it crashed into a missile silo and exposed the entire base. We flew in to ensure that there were no survivors, but we had reason to believe that there Fallen that escaped it, ones that had been disguised as Kings but were actually part of the Illusion."

Zavala recoiled at the sound of that house's' name and promptly cut me off. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm almost glad your operation ended in abject failure."

Charli stood up. "Excuse me?!" she shouted, outraged.

"Miss Hendricks, sit down!" Zavala shouted back. "As we've discussed, the House of Illusion no longer exists and perhaps never did. They are a myth, urban legend. You have no evidence to support your claim that they are a physical entity with the means and capabilities to pose a viable threat to Guardians and the City."

"Bull crap!" she shouted once again. "You've got the direct results of what they can do lying in your infirmary. Vern, show him." In a flash of light, a modified version of a Wire Rifle, painted deep green, appeared on the table. It was much more compact than the standard versions that some Vandals carried around. The design was altogether much sleeker that made it look all the more lethal. "This is the exact weapon that destroyed Arla's Ghost. Proof that the House of Illusion does exist. We also have a picture of the dead assailant upon our discovery of it. Vern if you please." The Ghost flashed in and projected a picture of a Vandal in sleeker armor dangling dead out of vent located in the server room, the Wire Rifle in front of us below him just out of the shot. It wore a deep green cloak in addition to armor that looked noticeably different than what I'd seen on Vandals in the past. Looking at its exposed face, it looked older, more experienced than I had associated with similarly ranking Fallen. I got the odd feeling that what we perceived to be an Illusion Vandal was anything but. It was just a passing thought, but what if this is what their Captains and high-ranking officers looked like? What could they be capable of that we didn't yet know about?

"While this certainly seems like concrete evidence…"

"It IS concrete evidence!" Charli asserted. "What more do you need?"

"A body to examine would be nice, but I don't suspect you have one do you?" Charli lowered her head and muttered, "No…"

"That's what I thought. We'll take up the matter with the Speaker, and I'll have Banshee take a look at the weapon, make sure neither of you tampered with it. Given that one of you has a talent for modifying armor, we can't definitively say you had no chance to modify a Wire Rifle on your way back and make it seem as though it's from a fabled Fallen House. Regardless, the others asked me to tell you what happened while you were gone, so that what I'm about to say makes sense to you."

I did not like where this meeting was heading. There was something malevolent about the air; I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was certainly there. "Go ahead," I replied suspiciously.

Zavala straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. "Shortly after you infiltrated the compound, Rasputin sent us word that you had purposely breached its base and opened fire on its guards within, killing several of what few it had left. As such, it needed to make an example so that we wouldn't cross it again."

"What do you mean, an example?" I asked, leaning forward in my chair.

"A sign of dominance. That it would not consider us enemies if we rectify the transgression we made against it. Rasputin used one of its many satellites in orbit to launch a kinetic rod a couple dozen miles outside of the City, close enough that everyone heard the impact and certainly felt it, but didn't do any significant damage. If you had destroyed the base, I fear that none of us would be standing here right now. That warmind is much more powerful than any of us would care to think. I can almost guarantee you that if we ticked it off enough, Rasputin would wipe us off the face of the planet without a second thought. As part of the deal we were forced to strike with it, we had to ensure that the party responsible for the attack would be duly punished, and since you refuse to drop your arguments about this fabled House of Illusion." The Commander stood up. "As a Vanguard appointed by the Speaker and Traveler, I, Commander Zavala, hereby suspend all Guardian activities that involve Titan Charli Hendricks, Warlock Maximus, and Huntress Arla Nublier in any way, shape, form, or fashion until further notice on the grounds of conspiring against the City via fabricated plans of a falsified and/or destroyed organization, attacking an ally of the Vanguard, City, and Traveler unprovoked, and recklessly endangering the City through operations not directly sponsored by the esteemed members of the Vanguard. For Titan Hendricks and Warlock Maximus, they have also been charged of directly contributing to the destruction of a fellow Guardian's Ghost, and the matter shall be investigated accordingly with the victim Guardian's testimony, should she wake up with a sound mind, and accused Guardian's complete, unabridged Ghost memories surrendered at the close of this meeting." He looked me directly in the eye. Their almost seemed a glimpse of glee in it, like he was going to enjoy taking Starco's memory apart. "Which means any of your previous operations may come under review as well." My heart immediately sank, and Charli turned several shades lighter and then several shades of red. They were branding us as criminals for trying to stop the Fallen, and they would find out about Dea in the process.

"Finally, as part of the suspension of your duties as a protector of the Traveler and the City, all three of you, regardless of physical, mental, or emotional health, must remain within the Tower's borders until you are cleared for operations once again. Any packages you receive via the postmaster in addition to your quarters are able to be searched at any time and any item that may prove your disloyalty to the Vanguard and the cause it represents will be seized and possibly used against you. Since Huntress Nublier no longer has a Ghost, the memories found on both of yours will serve as hers as well, implicating her in any wrongdoing either of you may or may not have partaken in. We, the Vanguard, wish to be able to clear you but will examine the evidence thoroughly between ourselves, the Speaker, and a third, undisclosed party. Should we all come to the same conclusion that further action must be taken, you may face being completely stripped of your Guardian status indefinitely without any way of rejoining our ranks." Zavala took a deep breath. "Now, hand over your Ghosts, and you are free to leave." Charli's mouth fell agape as fiery rage burned her eyes. If looks could kill...

Rage and indignity boiled inside of me as well. Looking at Charli, she seemed to be feeling the heat a little more than more, her fists clenching and teeth gritted together almost to the point that she was grinding them. As much as I wanted to beat Zavala to a bloody pulp, I had no choice. We had no choice. Defeated, I held up a flat left palm, summoning Starco, and pushed him over to Zavala. Starco looked at me powerlessly as he floated over to the Titan Vanguard. Zavala looked towards Charli, who was using every ounce of willpower not to lash out at the Vanguard, and raised an expectant eyebrow. Reluctantly and following my exact motions, Charli transferred Vern from her to Zavala, immediately turning and stomping out of the room. Both Ghosts watched longingly as I shot daggers at Zavala. All of us knew that we could be facing the final days of our Guardian careers right now.

The door slammed shut behind me, leaving Zavala and his smug face all alone. I looked around for Charli, but she had already left, probably going to blow off some steam until her mood was presentable again, or maybe she was going to sleep it off, something I should probably do as well, but I was still shocked at the sudden turn of events. Part of me understood why they did it. We accidentally stirred up a hornets' nest, and they struck back. Rasputin was definitely an enemy that we could not afford to have. At the same time, the warmind made an incorrect assumption that we knew Caesar was a part of it, but it was an AI apparently incapable of seeing that. I guess it didn't see the Fallen as invaders given Charli had shot them down and the ship crashed into it. Probably presumed they were dead too. This was messed up.

The other part of me questioned why they tossed us to the wolves so easily. Arla and I exterminated the Black Garden. I thought that counted for something, but I guess not as much as I thought. It was frustrating, but it was the present, and you couldn't change the past. As I stepped into my room, I quickly realized that all of my weapons were gone too.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **2 days later...**

 **The Queen's Private Chambers, Royal Palace, The City**

The Speaker and the Queen sat at the very same table as before. The Speaker still donned his flawless white armor, but the Queen had changed her appearance slightly, this time wearing a red dress with white lace across the neck, hem, and sleeves. Her taste bothered the Speaker a little, but if it kept her disguise, then it would have to do. What really bothered him was that their third guest was late by almost an hour. Not a behavior that he took lightly from one of his top captains. The Commander could only do so much parading as the Speaker; he had to leave a large amount of the planning and responsibilities to his underlings, and that included what he had initiated behind closed doors two days earlier: an almost guaranteed way to get those pesky Guardians off his case and leave them clear to reach their ultimate goal. The Plan was going to succeed even if it meant drastic measures.

Finally, a knock came at the door. "Come in!" the Queen called softly, standing as their next guest entered. A bald Awoken in heavy armor walked through the door the guard opened and shut the door himself. "Welcome Commander Zavala. Please have a seat."

"Your Majesty," he said with a nod to the Queen. "Speaker." He took a seat at the table. "Sorry I'm late, I ran into...complications."

The Speaker and Queen looked at The Commander. "What kind of complications?" she asked.

"The others are holding firm on their opinions that they're actions are acceptable. Who or whatever that Dea person is, Ikora and Cayde certainly do not seem against having her as an ally. I've made known my arguments for our side, but I don't think they are going to work." The Commander stopped. "Beg your pardon, but can we lose these forms for this meeting? I can't stand the voice that this filthy Commander has."

The Commander scowled behind the Speaker's mask but ultimately relented. "Granted," he replied. There was a quick series of three flashes as each converted into their natural form. Sitting where the queen had been was an Eliksni with an overall slimmer appearance that made her posing as the Queen much easier than it would had The Commander given the position to one of his male Captains. Zavala's brawny form quickly morphed into a bulker but equally capable Eliksni with broad shoulders and bulging muscles up and down each of his four arms. The Commander also shed his disguise but still found himself bound in the Speaker's ill-fitting armor and robes as did Vulkra and Kilm, the second Captain. The Commander removed the mask and pushed back the cloth wrap the usually surrounded his head. To a complete stranger, it would have been an extremely peculiar sight, seeing three Fallen sitting at a table, two wearing Guardian armor and the other dressed as the Queen, but this was a position that Gilmis found himself in several times over the last several decades as he worked his way up the Illusion's ranks, becoming the Kell nearly a year ago.

As Fallen, the House of Illusion wasn't too different biologically, but technologically, they separated themselves by a wide margin. Over the centuries since they had been "killed off" by the other Houses in a war best described as a free-for-all, they'd developed weapons far more lethal than those of their Eliksni "brethren" and developed special implants that made it all too easy to make exact replicas of almost anyone.

Commander Gilmis adjusted his lower arms confined in the armor and crossed his upper pair as he leaned back in the seat. "Does that suit you better?" he asked Kilm, slightly annoyed by the discomfort.

"Yes sir. Thank you," Kilm responded gratefully. "Just wish these Humans and Awoken had four arms. Would make this armor fit much better."

"Toughen up. You've been through worse," Vulkra commented.

"Big words coming from a weak female…"

Vulkra angrily huffed and stood up, getting right in Kilm's face. "Need I remind you who's second in command here," she spat into his face. Kilm responded with a throaty growl and by pushing his face even closer to hers with bared teeth.

Gilmis slammed two fists onto the table. "Knock it off! Both of you!" he shouted, looking into both of his Captain's eyes. "You sound like children. Need I remind you that I can have you both removed if need be. We are in deep if we don't work toward our common goal with one mind." The Kell stood up and gestured to the door with his right arm as he spoke. "We are literally next to an entire army that has gotten the better of those traitorous Kells, and I will certainly not see the same shortcomings in my House while I am in charge of it! If we're going to continue having problems, then I WILL dispose of you both and do it all with the other two, who I assure you, will only know not to repeat your mistakes. Am I clear?"

It was quiet for a moment. The two Captains backed away from each other but kept eye contact. "Yes, sir," the Captains said in unison. Gilmis had benefited from such a move by previous Kells, there were no Barons or other ranks between Captain and Kell. These two reaped similar benefits from their predecessor's failures back on Mars, ones that cost them their lives without Gilmis having to dispose of them himself.

The Kell took a seat once more and clasped his hands together on the table. "Now that is out of the way and will NOT happen again…" He eyed both Captains. "...I want updates from each of your sides. Vulkra we'll start with you on the political front."

"There's not much to report in the last week."

Gilmis curled his mandibles into a small grin. "Well then, tell Kilm since he's not too familiar with your side of the table," he suggested, gesturing to the other Captain."

Vulkra shot daggers at Kilm but then relaxed her gaze. "Well, to start with, nobody in the City seems any wiser to our transition. So far, we've been able to replace more than half of the City's official political hierarchy with the Queen, Speaker, and most recently Commander Zavala of the Vanguard. We are yet to isolate Vanguard Ikora Rey and Cayde-6 under the right circumstances, so we are still waiting to make a move on them. With that, the other two Captains are waiting for your signal to follow both of you back to the Tower."

Gilmis raised a hand and cut her off. His voice was toned with annoyance. "Are they present?"

Vulkra made a small nod towards the door, but her eyes remained on Kilm. "Kelpat and Thuzia are standing guard outside the door. On Thuzia's behalf, may I…"

"You may not!" Gilmis snapped. "Your feelings, anyone's feelings for that matter, have no effect on my decisions. If that bothers you, then take it up with my sword. Now, Kilm. Your report?"

"Those three Guardians have been placed under investigation just as you asked Commander. We're currently analyzing their data stores, but there are some issues trying to pin them for any wrongdoing."

Gilmis curled a fist on the table. "What kind of issues?"

Kilm adjusted his seated position. "The other Vanguard believe that the machine's actions are justified. I've made my arguments, but Cayde and Ikora still have the majority, and that means we can't get it to you to disband them."

Gilmis looked in Kilm's glowing yellow eyes. They seemed to dart about and do anything but make eye contact with him. "To say I'm disappointed is an understatement Kilm," he growled.

Vulkra jumped up. "Why don't we just replace them now?"

Gilmis narrowed his eyes at the female Captain. "Two of them are basically celebrities that the public would certainly notice if they started acting squirrely, and those two would definitely notice if the new one started acting odd too. The time will come. That said, Kilm." He shifted his focus to the other Captain at the table. "I picked you for this because you know how to talk. How long can you delay the final vote?"

He thought for a moment. "Five days at the most. We can only take their Ghosts for a week. After that, we have to make a decision within a couple hours. I want you to take the vote to the deadline."

Gilmis leaned back in his seat for a moment." Kilm, make those two watch the tape of the Black Garden as many times as possible. Before any of you vote, I want you to bring me a copy of the footage from that machine's Ghost. Take a couple risks if you must. I have a couple ideas if we're unable to get rid of those three."

"And if the other two discover me?" Kilm sounded concerned.

"Then we're going to have to accelerate our plans a little." He narrowed his eyes at Kilm. "And perhaps thin out the team. You will not fail me and live to tell the tale Kilm."

"Y-yes sir," he replied. "The vote will be swayed."

"It better be…" he grumbled. Gilmis stood up. "Vulkra! Contact Captain Trivak and tell him to get the Ketch to Mars. The Black Garden is there somewhere, and I want him to find it. When he does, he is to draw out a Gatekeeper and rip out its mind core. After that, he is to return to Earth's Orbit and await further orders. If he needs to contact me, he knows how."

"Yes Commander," she responded, beginning to reactivate her disguise. Kilm was doing the same.

"Kilm, I want you to take Kelpat and Thuzia to the Wall. They need disguises, so you can take them to the Tower undetected." Gilmis pulled the Speaker's mask over his face and lifted the hood to its edge, reactivating his disguise as well. There was a slight pinch as the Commander's cellular makeup shifted, followed by a numbness in his lower two arms. The Speaker's memories flooded his own, lending themselves to his access but leaving his own conscious processes unaffected. He rolled his shoulders. Gilmis looked at his captains' faces, now replaced with their Human and Awoken disguises, perfect replicas of those they mimicked. He couldn't help but smile at how helpless their entire organization was. None of them knew what had happened.

They would never know in time

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

HAPPY NEW YEAR! :)


	14. Suros

**Chapter 13**

 **Suros**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

 **Five Days Later…**

The Tower was slowly becoming my prison. I quickly found that there was very little to do besides read the materials in the library and walk around aimlessly while awaiting word from the Vanguard. Each of the first couple of days, I woke up thinking that everything had been a dream. That Arla and Charli were going to greet me in the morning, and we'd find something to entertain us for the day. Maybe explore the City since Charli hadn't gotten to do that yet, and Suros still wanted its Guardian, still insistent that it be one of my fireteam, but since we weren't allowed to leave, it made that idea a little more difficult to come to fruition.

Arla hadn't progressed any, and the doctors were reluctant to call it a coma, but they didn't want to call it unconsciousness either. They said that everything looked normal, but the psychological damage of losing what is, quite literally, a piece of you could have altered her permanently if she ever wakes up. Charli and I took turns during the day in intervals of a couple hours, waiting for her to wake up. That Heksis guy showed up early the day after our suspension, claiming that he was going to watch her 24/7 until she woke up. While I certainly admired his devotion, I eventually convinced him to let Charli and me take the day while he took the night. He seemed vigilant the first few days, but the last couple I've found him asleep in the middle of the floor, curled up in a ball still wearing his armor. Each morning when I took over, he would always whisper to Arla, "When I find out who did this…" and then leave tightly gripping the blades on his belt or fingering his hand cannons. Charli, when not watching Arla, would be in the media center, watching old news feeds or reading some article. The main reason I even knew about this was when she brought something into her watch or I ran into her at night in the center. She never struck me as the avid reader, but not everything is as they seem, something I've definitely learned over the last week.

I woke up in my bed after yet another long night. I sat up and pushed myself to the edge of the bed, feeling the cold carpet below my feet I couldn't rest with all the things on my mind. The longer they took to review everything, the crazier it drove me and the more certain that they were going to terminate my being here any longer. I tried to think what would become of me, a known figure suddenly kicked out of the organization he represented in the battlefield. Charli could probably leave without much regret other than what might've been, but it would be Arla that would take it the hardest. She'd been here for years. This had been her life, and it could all be ripped away in an instant while she was unconscious. Would they just dump her? I wouldn't let them even get the thought.

A knock at my door pulled me out of my thoughts. "Maximus?" a voice on the other side of the door called out. "It's Ikora."

I pushed myself off the mattress and answered, "Just a sec." I pulled open the chest of drawers and pulled out a shirt, sliding that over the bare metal that made up my torso. "Come in," I beckoned, opening the door remotely. Two figures strode through the doorway and walked in, Ikora and Cayde. Both wore their usual armors, but Ikora carried a slightly more personable look on her face than the serious poker face she usually wore while on duty. "Morning. Didn't expect you Cayde?"

He sat down at the small, round table near the small hallway that led to the door and reclined the chair with his feet kicked up over the table. "Oh, y'know. Just thought I'd say hello too." Ikora shooed his legs off the table but didn't sit down herself.

"I have another chair," I suggested, gesturing towards the desk on the opposite side of the room.

Ikora waved it away. "Oh no, I'd rather stand. We shouldn't be long anyway."

Cayde kicked his feet up again. "You never know though. We could kick up quite the conversation and stick around a little longer. It's been too long since Max and I have been able to just sit down and chat. Ain't that right?"

"Do that on your off time," the Warlock Vanguard responded, rolling her eyes at his recline.

"What off time? Thought being a Vanguard was a twenty-four hour gig." Ikora shook her head with a small smile across her face I sat down on the bed and clasped my hands together. "Alright, lay it on me," I said. I was fairly nervous because it would determine my future in a big way.

"Like I said, we won't keep you too long but we've finished reviewing the evidence regarding your charges, and we found some...anomalies."

"Hah, you could say that again," the Hunter Vanguard chuckled. "For example, that hot Exo chick, who's she? And don't spare any of the details." Ikora lightly punched him in the arm and shot him a scowl as well.

I hung my head. "I figured you'd find her. Her name is Dea. She claims to be an Agent of the Nine, and while I still have some reservations about that, her assistance in the field has gone unnoticed at her request. She was the reason that we were able to get into the Black Garden and the reason we investigated Caesar. I'll take full responsibility for our actions, but she was our source of intel. I understand that it was wrong to go behind the Vanguard's back like that, but we were doing what we thought was best to protect the City."

"So that's her name," Cayde said, staring off into the ceiling.

"Get your head out of there!" I snapped.

He shrugged innocently. "What? I guy can dream can't he?"

"Not when she'll slice you to bits without a second thought," I retorted, crossing my arms and shooting daggers.

Ikora rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. "After careful consideration and review of her involvement in your operations, we have decided to condone her involvement and acknowledge that she was an integral part of the success in the Black Garden. However, we cannot necessarily support her methods of hiding in the dark until just the right time and then disappearing again. We have also decided to clear you, Arla, and Charli of all charges as, through your Ghosts, we were able to glimpse multiple attacks made by the faction you call the House of Illusion. While we cannot confirm or deny their presence in the City, we now certainly know of their existence and will do all we can to find out why they seem to differ so much from the other Fallen. The Rifle showed significant similarities to current Fallen tech as well as several new surprises."

"What kind of surprises?" I asked.

Cayde answered first. "Well for starters, they may have the capabilities of turning their weapons invisible and keeping them that way after firing. They've also developed lighter and more durable alloys that make the weapons much more lethal than your standard Wire Rifle and almost lighter than those Shock Pistols. We're also trying to get more data on their energy-based projectiles, maybe figure out some countermeasures that we can apply to new suits of armor. The strangest thing though had to be the scope."

"What's so weird about it?"

"It behaves like your run-of-the-mill sniper cope with variable zooms, but it also shows any invisible targets as if they were standing in broad daylight. They might as well not even be cloaked. It's crazy, but we were able to reverse engineer it. The only problem was that any modifications that we tried to work into it caused the entire thing to stop working."

I nodded. "That's definitely different from what we're used to seeing. So what happens now?"

Ikora took a deep breath. "Well, life goes on. We want you to continue your investigation into the House of Illusion. Your friend Dea said something about meeting with Variks up in the Reef, yes? Well, I've taken the liberty of arranging a meeting with him no strings attached, for you anyways. Anything that he requires of you lies solely between you two."

"Thank you, Ikora. I owe you one."

Ikora smiled. "No Maximus, it's us that owe you a lot more for what you've sacrificed for our cause. If it's any consolation, it was the Speaker and Zavala who suggested we review your file after they got done with Rasputin. Cayde and I were completely against it because we knew you were better than just attacking the warmind for no reason. We had to run the investigation though because there wasn't a clear majority opinion, and we had our suspicions about that Black Garden report." Ikora quickly switched gears. "Which reminds me, Zavala didn't want to let you off the hook without doing a few things for us. For one, we want that Black Garden report rewritten and resubmitted along with your Ghost's data for it, unabridged and uncensored. Leave nothing out no matter how scarring. We'll do the censoring ourselves depending on who wants to access the information. Cayde also wants you to take a reverse engineered version of that scope to each of the three main foundries as soon as you can, see what they can come up with by the end of the week due to your unique...relations with each of them."

Cayde jumped in. "Yes I do. A couple more things though. One, don't be scared to go out and do some justice for the City on your own. Zavala is just a stick in the mud for protocols and whatnot. What he doesn't realize is that a lot of our most definitive victories have come from Guardians going out and finding trouble themselves. Just don't find us any trouble with a super powerful AI with access to orbital death from above." He stopped for a moment for some reason.

"And the second thing?" I probed.

He took his feet off the table. "Oh, yeah! So, we've got a friendly wager going 'round the Vanguard on which foundry is going to make the best version. Care to join in?"

"What do the wagers look like right now?"

"Ah, but that spoils all of the fun. Minimum's 250 Glimmer, winner takes the pot. Plain and simple."

He certainly had a way with words. "You really do have a gambling problem don't you?" I laughed.

Cayde shrugged. "What can I say? I like pushing the envelope."

I laughed and shook my head. "Fine then, I'm in if for nothing else than to beat you again. 500 says Omolon wins it."

The Hunter took out a datapad and started tapping into it gleefully. "Hey hey, smart man right there. Just handing me the victory!. Suros is gonna DOMINATE this competition. Just imagine finding all those hidden Fallen scum looking through a sight that's suddenly not there anymore. Slick and smart."

"Well, I've gotta have faith in my sponsor. They're at the cutting edge right now, so I think they'll come up with something that'll make the other foundries jealous."

Ikora held up a guilty-looking hand. "Zavala and I are gonna laugh at you both when Hakke wipes the floor with both of your bets."

We all laughed for a minute or two. These were the moments I wish I had more of with the Vanguard. Those personal moments that made everything seem less...daunting. Just hit the pause button on life for a few minutes to sit back and enjoy each other's company for once without getting shot at. Cayde stood up and firmly shook my hand. "Best of luck to ya Max. Gotta go tell Charli the good news. You think she'd want to get...ow." Ikora shoved an elbow into his side. "Nevermind then." He started walking towards the door. "I look forward to seeing you pay up!" He exclaimed as he exited.

Ikora jokingly rolled her eyes at her colleague. "Never a dull moment with him around," she joked. She sighed contentedly and then started to leave. "That meeting with Variks is for tomorrow whenever you feel like it. He's got a clear schedule all day. Just tell them that 'Kora sent you." She walked out of the door but quickly turned around, poking her head in. "Like Cayde though, I look forward to seeing you pay up," she added with a grin.

"Bring it on," I called out to the door. There was a sudden, small flash of light just outside the hallway as Starco burst into the room, wailing about how sorry he was that he had to divulge everything and take away all of my weapons and much more. I didn't really listen to him because, except for Arla's condition, everything seemed to be ok for the moment, and I wanted to savor this feeling.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Charli was silent as we walked through the City, but her eyes were full of wonder and her smile full of relief as she watched Vern float by. She looked about frantically, trying to soak in every detail. Before leaving, I made three calls, one to each of the main foundries in the City. To Omolon and Hakke, I asked them to send their head engineer to the Starway Diner because there was an urgent matter to discuss. I still needed to call Suros, but I was sure that they would be all too happy to get whatever they needed of Charli right away while I met with the head designer.

Solely based on its looks, the Diner wasn't anything special. Harold Starway, the owner, was old fashioned in his presentation and service methods, employing more people than mindless machines to serve and cook food. The way he set up the chairs and booths also gave it a slightly retro feel, but really it was anything but. According to Harold himself as well as Martin, one of his top employees, they'd broken ground on some revolutionary culinary ideas, the least of which I couldn't partake of due to my lack of biological processes.

I looked up at the sign above the door. Gone were the old, cursive lights. The new sign still carried that classic red, but this time the font was much larger, more noticeable. The words were slanted to the right with a red rocket flying over "Starway's."

I pushed open the door and entered, the door ringing a small bell attached to the frame. Martin Quince, a human of African descent, stood at the old fashioned cash register. When I walked in, he was billing a pair of female Titans, one human and the other Awoken. The pair turned around carrying two plastic containers a piece and gave me a small nod as we passed. Martin turned around and drew a black line on a whiteboard behind him. "What's up Max?" he called out when he finished striking through whatever it was.

I looked about the dining area for a second. There were a few of the usual patrons, but none of them were the people I was looking for. "Not much," I answered, but he continued before I could return the question.

"You say that, but I'll probably hear about something heroic on the news in a few minutes," he interrupted. Martin had a friendly face with a voice that matched it perfectly. He'd been a good friend of Arla's for a few years now and had started working here not long after I became a Guardian, at least as far as Arla had told me. While I certainly took it upon myself to go out into the City as often as I could, I didn't really go out to make friends. Martin was a rare exception

"Funny. So what've you been up to? No good I presume."

He chuckled. "Oh you know me, saving the world one sandwich at a time. So what bad guy did you go out and shoot this time?"

I casually placed an arm on the counter. "Haven't left the Tower in a week, so I haven't really done much."

"Mmmhmm," he said sarcastically, giving me a look of joking suspicion. "I'll wait for the news." His eyes then seemed to look past me. "Hate to be rude, but is your friend gonna come in, or is she just waiting for you?" I looked over my shoulder and saw Charli standing just outside the door. To be frank, I assumed that she'd come in behind me and decided not to speak. Guess not.

Her eyes were aimed at her feet, her posture slightly slumped, and I could see her fingers on both hands flicking one at a time rapidly. Similarly, her hair was slouched forward, making her face hidden besides the places her eyes peeped out. I looked back at Martin. "I'll be right back." He nodded, and I opened the door. "You alright?" I quietly asked Charli. There was no response; it was like she didn't even hear me or even acknowledge that I was in front of her. I raised my hand to tap her shoulder but backed off when I saw a bead of sweat drop from her chin. Her entire body began to shake, her fingers flicking much faster and breaths becoming shallow and rapid.

I'd seen this before, especially in newer Guardians but, in my brief time as one, had ever heard of someone having these flashbacks as late as this. I reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She immediately seized my hand and ripped it off of her with an unpredictable strength, one that caused me to stumble onto the sidewalk before catching myself. Suddenly, her entire person jolted back. She knelt down on the ground rested on her hands her breathing much deeper now but her body was shaking uncontrollably. I approached slowly, unsure of whether the fit was over. I looked behind me and found that the street was, thankfully, almost empty. The few people that were there walked by save for one person on the opposite side. He wore a black trenchcoat and an unnerving, steely gaze. Three more people dressed in business attire walked by and shook the man's hand before all four disappeared around the corner.

I waited until the buildings marred my sight of them before I approached Charli. She was still on the ground, her breathing much steadier now. I knelt down next to her. "You alright Charli?"

Her voice was shaky as she replied. "W-what...was th-that?" she stuttered, still watching the sidewalk. Her whole body shuddered again.

"I'm not sure. What did you see?"

"I...saw Mars. The Fallen raiding one of our ships. I watched my friends die, their lives slip through my fingers. I saw bloody battles across the Martian sand, but they weren't ones I'd seen before even from the air. I-I need to sort this out before I can explain it."

I placed an understanding hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. Those are normal for the first few weeks of being a Guardian, or at least one that can remember his or her past. The Vanguard's told me about earlier ones that had no clue who they were or what they did except for that a gun shot one way and kicked back at them. Ikora told me about one she'd met a few years ago. He walked right into a Fallen meeting, even sat down at the table before one of the Captains took a swing at him."

Charli smiled a little bit and wiped away what looked to be tears rather than sweat. "Sounds a bit ridiculous to be true."

I shrugged. "Well, I've seen crazier. Who knows? Time might have magnified a couple circumstances."

Charli stood up and laughed. Her cheeks were red from the crying, but it looked like they were going to be rosy from smiling and laughing too much. She looked like she was going to be okay. "Remind me to tell you a few funny stories from my time on Mars later. I think you and Arla would enjoy them, maybe even that Heksis guy would like to join in."

"Maybe. He can be a piece of work though. You alright? We can always reschedule the photo shoot."

"I'm fine. Let's go get some food. I'm starving." She smiled once more and brushed her hair back.

"Good plan." I followed her into the restaurant and introduced her to Martin.

"Nice to meet ya," he said, shaking her hand and flashing her one of his cheesy grins. "Any friend of Max and Arla is a friend of mine."

"Hey Max!" a deep, gravelly voice called from the kitchen. A pair of eyes and a mustachioed face appeared in the slot in the wall that revealed a part of the kitchen. "How're ya doin'?"

"Just as well as I can Mr. Starway," I responded politely.

His face disappeared from the window, and he suddenly pushed open the kitchen door and stood next to Martin at the register. "I've told ya a thousand times at least, please call me Harold," he said as he entered. He looked toward Charli. "Nice to meet ya Ms. Hendricks. I'm Harold, Harold Starway, the owner of this fine establishment." She smiled, and he shook her hand vigorously." You need anything, just give us a call. Max here and Arla did us a favor that we can never repay, so consider it a token of gratitude when I say order anything off that menu free of charge morning, noon, or night." He smiled widely as he talked to her, Martin mirroring the smile minus the facial hair. Harold had always been a kind man, and the wrinkles that covered his lightly tanned skin came only from his undying smile. If there was one thing he didn't do though, it was mess around. He was always quick to the point, at least when he was talking to us. Martin was the more humorous side of Mr. Starway, his wit sharp and always raring to go.

Harold released Charli's hand and looked at Martin. "So, what's the young lady ordered?" he asked, extending an arm around his worker's shoulder and giving him a small squeeze.

"Nothin' yet, sir. You caught them before she could say anything."

"Well might I recommend the Guardian special then?"

A few teeth peeked out of her smile. She seemed to be embracing her new title. "Sure why not."

"You won't regret it Miss Charli." Harold turned on his heel and began retreating to the kitchen.

"Mr. Starw-" I cut myself off. "Harold," He shot me a thumbs-up. "Do you mind if I conduct a small bit of business here?"

"Nothing illegal right?"

"Of course. Just have to talk to some of the foundry designers about a challenge the Vanguard is offering them."

He laughed. "Go right ahead. Nothing like a little competition to keep the economy rolling. If you really need to sell it, tell 'em to order anything on the house they just have to say they're a friend of yours."

I nodded to him and then gestured Charli towards the tables. "Shall we take a seat?" He disappeared behind the kitchen doors, and Martin went back to cleaning the counter. A few minutes later, Martin grabbed a pair of plates from the window and set them in front of Charli while we sat at our table next to the window that looked out to the street. On it was several breakfast burritos that I recognized as Arla's favorites, bacon, something that looked like hash browns but flatter, and a bowl of something white with a bit of yellow in the middle. The last thing looked a bit like oatmeal, but it was thinner and a little more gritty-looking. I turned away from the food and looked out the window as Charli ate.

The pedestrian traffic was steadily growing as the sun continued to rise, but there was no sign of either the people I was supposed to meet. I reached down in one of my pockets and fingered the reverse engineered scope. It was by no means big, but its possible applications made it essential to our efforts if we were to stop the Illusion. If you ask me though, we shouldn't be putting this in a scope for use out in the field; we need to put its capabilities in helmet designs so that we can make sure there aren't any of them in the City. As a scope, we wouldn't be able to do much checking because nobody wants someone in heavy armor aiming a gun in their general direction. Of course, most people look less intimidating without a helmet too, but you had to sacrifice something get the desired result almost every time unless you wanted a chip in your brain (something far more feasible for me). We may be able to convince the Queen and Speaker to put out a mandate that requires security cameras to have a chip version of the scope's abilities. Then again, that'd be a hard sell because we'd be fiddling with political nonsense that I prefer not to worry myself over.

Regardless, the Illusion seemed to have a good idea of what they're doing, what strings to cut and others to tie. I couldn't confirm that they were in the City, but I had an inkling that they were, that they had been since the time Lee was killed and maybe even before that. Something told me that this was definitely not the first time they'd done this. Regardless of how many times, the question was why? Why would they destroy a civilization? Surely not by chance. There had to be something more substantial than picking a planet and inserting themselves into its airspace, land, and water. That was something I was hoping this Variks guy could help clear up tomorrow.

I looked at the analog clock that hung on an adjacent wall. 9:20. Both representatives agreed to meet me here at 9 on the dot because we needed to get to Suros' headquarters across town. I understand traffic, but, at the very least, the Omolon rep should already be here since their headquarters was just a few streets over.

"Everything alright?" Charli asked between bites of food.

I continued scanning the people outside. "They're late," I stated flatly.

Charli swallowed another bite. Her face was calm but her eyes were worried, probably from earlier. "I'm sure everything's fine. Something might've come up at the office. Business suits will always be like that no matter where, or when, they are."

"Astute observation for someone been here for less than a month," I commented, impressed.

Charli smiled. "Your friend Harold acted just like a friend of mine I had back on Mars, except he owned a salon. Really nice man."

Suddenly, my Clip (a type of phone) buzzed in one of my pockets. "Hold that thought," I requested and exited the restaurant to take the call. I held it up to my audio sensor and answered. "Hello?"

"Hey! Max!" It was Germain "Stone" Slater, the head designer at Omolon. "Sorry I didn't call you sooner, but I'm going to be a few minutes late. I had to be at an emergency meeting with the CEO, CFO, and Edg," (pronounced like Edge). Edg, or rather Edgar Cutlas, was the head engineer for Omolon. As with his last name, he had a very sharp sense of perfection and expected that of his engineers. I met him only briefly when I did my shoot with them. He seemed to be very focused on his work and always looking ahead to the next thing. I did not envy his position unless Edgar is a little more personable with his co-workers than me.

"It's fine. We're still waiting on Jordan too."

"Ah makes sense. I just ran into her just a moment ago. We should be there in five."

"Alright. Can I get something for either of you? Have it ready by the time you come."

"Umm…" he trailed. "Can't say I've been there before." He said slowly. "I'll check out the menu when I get there." There was a small pause on the other end followed by a pair of voices: one masculine and inquisitive, the other feminine and much more declarative. After something that sounded vaguely like "Alright," Germain spoke directly into his phone. "Jordan says she'll have the special, doesn't care what that entails, and a glass of OJ."

"Alright. I'll see you two in five." I ended the call and stuffed the phone back into its pocket. Charli had been watching me through the window, seated where I had been not too long ago. Noticing I was off the phone, she strolled over to the door and opened it for me. "Everything go alright?" she asked.

"Thanks," I responded, walking through the door. We both returned to the table, coincidentally sitting on the same side, her food now only an empty plate. "They just got a little delayed. Should be here in a few minutes." I glanced at the end of the table and realized I was unable to get out.

Charli noticed my change in attention. "Oh sorry." She moved to let me out. "Here you go."

I scouted out of the bench. "Nearly forgot to order for our guests." I grabbed the plate to take to Martin. "I'll take this while I'm at it. You want anything else?"

"I'll pass," she responded, taking a seat once more as I approached Martin at the register.

I placed the order and returned the plate. "You're doing my job for me," Martin joked with a smile. "I'll have it done by the time they get here." I nodded and returned to the table where Charli was leaning back into the plush cover of the seat.

I sat down opposite her. Her eyes were closed, half-covered by her auburn hair as a few strands drifted lazily down her face. It was still relatively early in the morning, but she was napping at least for the moment. Once again, I reached in my pocket and pulled out the device.

It was curious device, the reverse engineered one. According to Cayde, Banshee and his assistants couldn't get the tech to fit into a cast of the original case, so they made their own. It was essentially a piece of smart glass atop a gray metal box with rounded edges. The glass could be flipped up for use and down, like it was now, for storage. Somehow this thing could see the invisible, meaning Hunters like Arla could be hunted nearly as easily as their Titan and Warlock counterparts. I didn't know how it detected the invisible specifically, but Cayde had briefly mentioned something about detecting light distorted around an object in a certain way. It almost sounded like he knew more about it than he was letting on, but given how fresh I was out of "investigation" (suspension), I didn't want to press the issue. For the Illusion, this meant we could see their transparent agents, but the disguised ones would still likely remain a problem. We'd need the how if we were to effectively solve that problem. First things first, we needed to prove that they were in the City, and that meant it was too late. Screwed if we do, screwed if we don't. There HAD to be another way to price they were a direct threat to the City.

The bell rang, signaling someone's entrance. I looked toward the door and saw two figures, a man and a woman, walk through. The taller of the two was a man in a black and white Omolon Polo with "Design and Engineering" printed on one sleeve and the company's logo adorning the other. The logo was also printed on a breast pocket on the left side of the shirt. That was Germain.

Meanwhile the lady just a couple inches shorter than he was Jordan, dressed in Hakke's tan coveralls that were standard for their design and engineering "corps" (as they called it). Her black combat boots and hair spoiled any real professionalism her outfit would have normally brought. Her hair was unruly to say the least, the purplish-red locks stretching themselves in any direction they saw fit and curling at the ends of they liked to. She was very eccentric, but her work at Hakke was unparalleled as far as I knew. She specially designed a set of knives just for Arla, ones that she still carried with her just with a few minor scratches in the paint, symbols of use. As if on cue, Martin brought out her food as the two sat down, Germain next to me and Jordan next to Charli. Jordan immediately began to dig into her food, wolfing it down as if she hadn't seen food for a week. Germain looked amusedly at who was technically his rival, but thus far they hadn't acted like it, something that surprised me pleasantly.

While Jordan was eating, Germain settled into the seat and asked, "So what can we do you for Max?"

I set the sight in the table's center for them to see. "This is some reverse-engineered tech we recovered from some Fallen. We believe that it has the capabilities of seeing anyone or anything cloaked. The Vanguard wants to make this technology a little more...aesthetically pleasing I guess you could say, so they asked me to give you each one to inspire a little, shall I say, competition between the foundries."

Jordan looked at the sight and then back at her food. Meanwhile, Germain picked it up, feeling its weight in his hand, looking through it, and doing a variety of other actions as he tried to get a feel for what he could work with. "I can think of a few ideas," he said confidently. "But what would the Fallen need sights like this for?"

A good question indeed. "Most Hunters have the capability of going relatively invisible for a little bit of time, enough to inflict some major damage if they remain undiscovered. So why not have a cleverly hidden sniper be able to see the invisible threat and deal with it."

"How much time do we have?" Jordan asked between swallows of food.

"They want something in about a week. Something that works, but if you could get some prototypes done sooner, I can only imagine that'd help your odds immensely."

"And how will we know if we won?" she asked with a mouthful of food.

"I'd imagine you get a large order from Banshee soon after they've been tested in the field on top of the usual orders." Oh they'd get an order. Whether it be for my own personal use or a mass order from the Vanguard. They knew that the Illusion were out there with the rifle and the corpse. Whether they acknowledge their true threat, which I sure hoped they did before it was too late, would remain to be seen until we brought them an actual caracass.

The rest of the meeting went rather smoothly. Jordan finished her food, grabbed her piece and exited alongside Germain. AFter she'd eaten and while we continued to discuss the details, she pulled out a datapad and began drawing what I assumed were schematics, many of them. While drawing, she uttered very few words but seemed to remain attentive as I answered Germain's questions to the best of my ability. He tried asking which House it had specifically come from, but I had to withold that information for the time being. Before they left, I asked that they not go public with this. I asked them to assemble a team of their finest to create the new versions and improve their functionality. Curiously though, Charli refrained from saying a word the entire time. Her face remained stone, stark, and void of any expression besides the occasional blink as her attention faded to her subconscious. Deciding to give her a few more minutes, I returned to watching the passersby go about their business. After about three and a half minutes had elapsed since Jordan and Germain left, I gave Charli a slight nudge beneath the table, immediately snapping her back to reality. Her eyes suddenly went wide with fear and darted in every direction rapidly, beads of sweat had begun gathering at her forehead, and her breathing had turned a little heavier. She calmed down within a minute or two, but her eyes remained glued to her hands on the table, like she'd seen a phantom.

"Everything alright?" I asked, extending a hand and gently patting one of hers.

Her head suddenly snapped up so that she was looking me in the eyes, her hands returning to her lap in almost a reflexive motion. "Huh, Wha-?" she stuttered at first but quickly recovered. "Oh, it was the vision. It returned, but it seemed a little fuzzier. Like I could see and hear everything but not interpret it. It was weird."

"That's I good sign," I reassured her. "Means that they're going away. They should stop by the end of the day."

Her eyes seemed to relax. "What do they mean though?"

I thought for a moment. Truthfully, I didn't understand either, but I had a theory. "I'm not sure," I began. "I think it's just your mind adapting to the Ghost's presence." I was still surprised that it was happening now. As far as I knew, which probably should've been farther at this point, I had never heard of any sane Guardians having these sorts of visions past their first couple of days. At the same time, I hadn't heard of a Guardian losing their Ghost and waking up with all of them still there.

I pushed those thoughts away because I couldn't stand the thought of going into the field without Arla. She'd been there for me pretty much since day one, the day where I saved her life the first time. I chuckled internally at how many times I had found myself in a similar situation. That day at the Cosmodrome, the Wall, The Devils' Lair, Venus, and the Black Garden. Though I was sure I was missing a couple there. I guess I had stopped noticing really. Though she'd saved my skin a few times too. I just regretted I couldn't do anything for Lee once he had gotten healthy after I'd hit him with the rocket. Arla insisted it wasn't my fault and that Lee had something like that coming eventually, but it didn't make Lee come back, no offense to Charli.

"Well if a few visions are the least I have to worry about, I'll enjoy that before I have to get shot at again." Charli leaned back in her seat once more as she said this.

"Hate to spoil the relaxation, but we need to get going. The others are probably going to get to work on those immediately, putting Suros at a slight disadvantage."

"I thought you bet against them"

I briefly considered that. I hadn't really thought of it that way, not much of a gambler unlike. "Please tell me they didn't drag you into that," I said, throwing my head back and placing my hands on my hips.

"Cayde certainly tried," she responded with a laugh. "But I told him I didn't know enough about the foundries to make a good bet. Of course he, like any gambler I've ever known, told me just to choose one, but I declined and Ikora shot him a look that was that." Charli slid out of the booth. We thanked both Martin and Harold and exited. The foundry was a good twenty minute walk from here at a brisk pace, and under normal circumstances, I would have hailed one of the cabs that flew above our heads or had my ship just take us, but I'd been cooped up in the Tower for the last week. I was going to enjoy the fresh air and the crowds. At this point in the morning though, there weren't many people on the street, most of them at work, but that didn't deter the dense throng that usually gathered around the market area, full of hydroponic and soil-grown herbs, foods, and spices. I was certain that it smelled absolutely delightful, mostly based on the look that ran itself across Charli's face as we walked through.

The market was quite literally a large, concrete square that seemed to stretch on. Countless carts and stands composed its outer perimeter and then several smaller squares made of yet more stands made the inner space. It was a place where people of all walks of life gathered, including Guardians, but oddly enough, many citizens gave them their space as they too meandered, whether out of respect or fear I knew not. While Charli momentarily perused the various products, I scanned the crowd as it flowed by, looking for a familiar face, perhaps Layma or Roald, but I had no such luck. Only faces without names passed by giving me a two or three feet of radius. A couple people seemed to recognize me faintly and looked at me as they passed but said nothing. While Charli was gone, I called Suros to set everything up. As expected, they were able to fit us in without any trouble at all.

After she'd had her fill, we continued through to the opposite corner and took our leave. From there, it was another ten minutes to the steps of Suros' headquarters. Suros was a sleek building with few corners and three steadily thinning tiers that contained the corners I could see. Most of the outside was glass sloping into an elegant archway that flowed from white to orange as if it were water. Waiting past the sliding doors of the front entrance were Thomas Yang and Shevra Devalen, according to their nametags. Devalen was an Awoken with long, bleach white hair thrown behind her head and blue glowing eyes. Yang was Human with jet black hair and a rounded complexion. His face was pressed into a straight line as we entered whereas his counterpart was only smiles, excitement seeming to radiate from her. Both wore sleek and elegant labcoats that shared the orange and white of practically everything within the lobby with "SUROS" written in black print above the breast pocket as well as on each sleeve. The shapes of the orange and white differed between the two, probably marking what department they were in, but that was just my theory.

Shevra extended an excited hand towards me. "Shevra Devalen at your service Mr. Maximus," she squealed, beaming. She shook my hand vigorously and then moved to my companion. "And you must be Miss Hendricks. Welcome aboard!"

Charli returned the smile as she shook her hand. "A pleasure. Please just call me Charli."

Shevra took a step back and let Mr. Yang silently shake each of our hands. His grip was surprisingly strong for someone who didn't look too athletic on the surface. He was a tad on the scrawny side of the scale, underweight as if he didn't eat more than once or twice a day. Shevra immediately compensated for his silence by adding, "This is Thomas Yang. He's one of the lead designers here. He's dealing with a bit of a sore throat at the moment, so he probably won't talk much." An awkward silence followed momentarily. Devalen continued to beam, something that made me a little uncomfortable. The grin was almost unnaturally large and only emphasized by her thin lips.

Charli broke the silence. "I believe we have some pictures to take Ms. Devalen?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Plenty to do in a short time indeed. Let's get to work. Maximus, Thomas will show you to the meeting room. You had some business to discuss with him and Mr. Tran?"

I nodded to her and Charli and began following Mr. Yang towards an elevator located just beyond the semi-circular reception desk at the back wall. He punched a button as we entered and then stood with his hands clasped behind his back as it suddenly shot up. His continued silence made me uncomfortable for some reason. He would glance at me every couple of seconds, but it wasn't toward my face. Rather, it was toward my back...my weapon.

With only a thought, I had Starco despawn each of my weapons save for my sidearm which I had holstered within my robe. "Sorry," I said. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He said nothing, only nodded. I found it awfully ironic that he would be unnerved by my weapons when he worked in a weapons foundry, designing them day in and day out, testing them when they had a suitable prototype. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Dea's rifle, one with components he would've never seen before. At the same time though, wouldn't he be more curious than scared of it?

Before I could get an answer, the door opened to a hallway painted in waves of red and white. Doors labeled "Lab" with a number next to it. Inside I could see several touch-screen boards with advanced calculations and blueprints drawn on their otherwise transparent surfaces. Most of the rooms featured what looked like 3-D printers and a variety of tools that I either vaguely recognized or never seen before. We continued down the hallway, made a right, and then entered a tall door with translucent glass on the right.

The conference room was rectangular in shape and had a large, wooden table at its center surrounded by chairs. Windows occupied one of the walls, affording us an impressive view of the City as it lay below us. I turned to the man, the sole inhabitant of the room aside from myself and Yang. He was a lanky individual in an expensive-looking black suit without much muscle on him and a serious face contorted into a grimace (reflected in the glass) as he looked out over the metropolis with his back to us.

"It's a crying shame," a tender yet stern voice called out from the chair. "That this City lauds undead soldiers to go and fight while they sit here and run from one useless thing to the next without much, if any, concern for what people like you go through. They throw three people into a pit of darkness, expect them to do the impossible, come back, and do it all over again. It's ridiculous if you ask me. Should be if you ask anybody, but the reality is that nobody cares nearly as much as I do." The man turned around in his chair with a small smile on his face. You could say his skin was kissed by the sun, but that wouldn't quite explain how dark his skin really was. It wasn't black, but it was probably as close as you could get and still be healthy. "THAT'S why my father founded this company. That's why I continue his legacy. To provide the best weapons to those who defend this city and make them look good while doing it." He leapt out of his chair and lightly jogged over to me. "Xavier Tran, CEO of Suros. Pleasure to meet you Maximus." He gave me a firm handshake and invited me to sit down near the window. Yang sat on the other side of his boss and remained expressionless.

Without wasting time, I jumped into explaining what we'd like the scope to accomplish at this point. Like any good businessman, he asked what was in it for them, so I told him what I hypothesized would happen just as I had with the others. After hearing my spiel, Mr. Tran tapped his chin. "So significant profit. A sound proposition for a business, but may I ask why the Vanguard are only giving us a week?"

That was the question I was afraid he'd ask. "I wish I could say," I admitted. "But I'm afraid I can't. Security reasons."

His head seemed to lower a bit. "Can't lie. I'm a bit disappointed. I'd rather not send my engineers to design something without knowing why, but if it keeps us safe, just make sure you use it well. Can I see this device?" I handed him the sight and he marveled at it for a moment. He looked at it from several angles and then peered through the actual glass. Suddenly, his face seemed to darken. "Have you actually tested to see if it works?"

"Personally? No, but I'm sure the Vanguard had tested it. Beg your pardon, but why do you ask?"

"Because it seems to be picking up something." His voice sounded suspicious, unnerved.

"Let me see." Yang said in a very hoarse voice, as if he'd yelled in a closet for hours beforehand. He struggled just to get the words out it seemed. His eyes narrowed, and I joined them, looking curiously over Mr. Tran's shoulder. I didn't think that it would work while unattached, but the scope highlighted a blurry, humanoid form standing in the corner by the entrance in bright orange.

I pulled my gun out. "Show yourself!" I commanded. I straightened and kept my sights trained on the door. "Stay behind me," I ordered the other two, who had taken cover under the table. I approached one step at a time, holding my gaze where I remembered it being there. "Mr. Tran, I need you to watch that thing. The table the safest place, but I need your eyes."

"R-right," he stuttered. I could almost guarantee he was still under the table, just watching the feet. I took another couple steps. "What the-?"

I turned around just in time to see Mr. Tran fly through the window with Yang's arms in the follow-through, the safety glass shattering as if it weren't even there. I immediately turned my aim to Yang and suddenly felt my arms wrenched back, causing the shot to plow into the ceiling. Whatever had me whirled me around, smacked the pistol out of my hand, and kicked me through the window.


	15. Yang

**Chapter 14**

 **Yang**

Voidwalker Maximus

My eyes opened, a pleasant surprise given how dead I should've been, but I didn't have time to revel in that fact. There was a much larger realization that was bitter-sweet: They were in the City. I was right, but I had silently hoped that I wasn't.

Pain coursed through me as I lay there. My vision spun slightly, but otherwise seemed uninhibited. By some stroke of luck, I'd landed on one of the tiers, the bottom one to be exact and only inches from the edge, but that was about where the luck ended. When I got to my feet, I realized that the nearest window was a couple dozen feet over my head, out of reach even if I glided or blinked. I'd have to solve that in a minute. First things first.

Starco I slipped me my helmet and I immediately opened a comms channel to Charli but nothing but static answered my worried voice. I immediately opened a channel with the Tower. I paced on the thin ledge for a minute waiting for someone to answer. Finally, some grunt picked up. After a moment of small bickering, I was able to convince him to get Ikora. I talked to her as I tried to find a way up without meeting the same fate as Mr. Tran.

"Maximus, what's wrong? Holmes told me it was a matter of life or death." Her voice sounded confused.

I cut straight to the point. "It's the Illusion. They're in the City. One of them just tried to throw me out of a window."

She muttered a harsh word. "Where are you at?"

"Suros headquarters past the market square. They killed Mr. Tran. I don't know who's Fallen and who's not, but I don't think we can take any risks." She muttered that word again, a little louder this time. "I don't think we can count of Suros anymore Ikora."

There was silence for a moment on the other end. After few seconds, she asked, "You're sure this is the Illusion?"

"I have no doubt in my mind."

"What's our next step then? We can't just destroy it especially with any civilians inside." Her voice was still as serious as it usually was, but there was worry in it.

I knew what we had to do, but that plan largely banked on Charli still being alive and not surrounded. "I need you to set up a perimeter around this place. Nobody gets in or out. I'm going to activate some sort of security measure that would seal off the building from the rest of the world."

"What about the foundry?"

Crap. I hadn't thought about that. I had no way of knowing if "Yang" had been able to send a message to his other operatives and give them their next set of orders. "I-I don't know."

"Alright, I don't see any feasible way of you being in two places at once, so here's my idea. Maximus I want you to get Charli out of there. I theorize that this was their move to take over Suros. They'll likely make Mr. Tran sounds suicidal, so that his death doesn't sound nearly as mysterious. I think being inconspicuous is our priority. If there are still civilians in that building, we can't let them know something's happened. That'll tip the Illusion off, and either cause a mass exodus from the building or they'll take hostages, probably a mixture of the two."

I didn't have anything better that didn't run a serious risk, so I had to go with that despite not liking it. "Alright," I agreed. "Just one problem."

"What's that?"

"How do I get off the building? It's too far down to jump without killing myself in the process." I could glide, but that would only slow me down so much for so long.

Ikora was quiet for a moment. "I know you won't like this, but you're going to have to try. Delay your glide as long as possible. I wish you luck." With that, the channel closed, leaving me in silence except for the gentle wind. On the horizon, a storm brewed black, violent clouds. I turned my gaze over the ledge to the ground far below. I tried to tell myself that this was just like all the times before it, just a long fall I could balance out, but this was stuck in that gray area. From here to the ground was just far enough to allow me to slow my descent initially but not enough for the glide to recharge before I'd need to use it again. If there were something solid between here and there, it'd recharge much faster, but there wasn't. Unloading it all at the bottom wouldn't cancel out enough of my momentum in time. I thought about blinking, but that would leave me the same as if I'd unloaded right as I launched, a mangled heap of metal.

I crouched down and leaned gently over the side, turning my head before I did to see if anyone was there. Without the scope, I couldn't do much about invisible foes other than assume they considered me dealt with and we're moving towards Charli. The thought made me shiver.

The ledge unsurprisingly gave way to a steep drop, the one that could kill me. As I went prone and looked over beneath it, I saw that the building curves outward. If I could lower myself from the ledge and swing over there, I could slide down, glide at the bottom and roll until I stopped. I didn't fancy rolling and getting jostled, but that was better than dying.

I tried to predict where I'd go. I was on the back of the building from what I gathered. There was an empty lot next door with some construction equipment all with the Suros branding visible even from here. Not the ideal place to roll into, but it could be worse. As far as I could tell, there weren't any large pits, just solid ground.

I stopped thinking. Now was the time to act. Charli could die and the Illusion would get away scot-free if this didn't work.

I carefully lowered myself from the ledge, feeling the strain in my hands as I dangled helplessly. I started to rock myself to give me a small boost when I let go.

3...2...1… I counted in my head. Just as I was going to release, a sharp pain coursed through my hands as my grip retired automatically and set me practically straight down. I quickly blinked onto the side of the building and pushed my hands, back, and legs against the wall's slick surface, trying to create any friction to slow my uncontrollable fall. The wall was far more vertical than I'd originally thought, doing next to nothing to recharge my glide or blink.

The ground was fast approaching, and I was quickly running out of wall with no way to slow myself. I looked for some sort of window ledge, but there was none to be found on this side. With no other options and death streaking forward, I kicked off the wall and braced for impact.

The concrete slammed into my back exactly as hard as it sounded. My vision went fuzzy as I rolled uncontrollably toward the construction site. My head hit a couple of uneven patches, sending my already poor vision swirling into obscurity until I decided to close them and except what came next.

No sooner had I done so when everything suddenly halted painfully and abruptly. I didn't move for a minute, waiting for the pulsating pain to subside, one that was renewed as I unsteadily rose to my feet. The screen on my helmet was cracked beyond repair, even by a ghost. "Not again," I said with a sigh, snatching my helmet off my head and tossing it to the side.

"That one's not your fault," Starco consoled.

"That doesn't make things any easier."

"I know, but on the bright side, you're off the building." True…

"No thanks to you," I lightheartedly accused. I immediately felt a sense of touché pass between us. We were quiet for a moment, me trying to let the pain subside and Starco probably considering our options. "You think we should just waltz in there and grab Charli?" I still hoped she was alright.

"Unless you want to go in there and risk murdering civilians," he answered. I knew he was kidding, but it was no less true. With our very limited knowledge of the Illusion's abilities and even more limited ways of countering them, that was a very real possibility. I honestly don't know how I could pull the trigger, but I probably would to save the City. I'd have to save the ethical debate for later. We couldn't risk leaving Charli in there any longer. Pushing away my thoughts and pain, I steeled myself and walked toward the main entrance.

The lobby was deserted save for one person, the receptionist. To say I was on alert was putting it mildly. I constantly flicked my vision about, looking for some sort of light distortion or hazy outline that would show someone-something-was watching me. My steps echoed like drums on the tile floor. I adjusted my robe just to assure myself of my pistol's presence inside. The receptionist turned towards me as I walked up. Her face seemed slightly surprised. "Oh, Mr. Maximus. I didn't see you leave."

"It's alright. I just needed to make a phone call. Could you tell me where I could find Charli?"

The woman smiled. "Of course. Let me get the room number." She stared at her screen for a moment and tapped few a few screens before settling on one and scribbling something quickly with shaking hands. She handed me a small slip of yellow paper: Elev B2; Sim Room 2.

"Thanks," I said, pocketing the slip. She looked unnerved and pale, stressed even, something that immediately raised my suspicion. Something suddenly brushed against me. I stepped to the side just in time to see something invisible, a blade perhaps, charge right into the front desk to the bewilderment of the woman. Without thinking, I yanked out my pistol and emptied several shots to the left of where I'd been standing a moment before.

A shape flickered as the first pair of bullets pierced their target. The next pair did it in, revealing a Vandal in sleek green and black armor now lying against the reception desk and bleeding profusely from its chest. I peered the gun over the desk, but there was no receptionist there. I had a sneaking suspicion she was one of them too. I kept my guard up as I took a few steps back. I wanted to call out to her to test her humanity, but I couldn't remember her name or if I'd even inquired about it. Instead I called out, "It's gone. You alright madam?" There was no response. 'I probably should not be standing in the same place,' I thought to myself. The easiest thing to hit was a still target. That said, I didn't really have a place to run and still get Charli out of here.

Carefully, I approached the desk, pointing my gun first before going behind it. Hiding in the alcove beneath it was the receptionist. She was curled up in a ball, hugging her knees and lying partially in the dead Vandal's gore that had leaked beneath the desk. Her eyes looked bigger than her sockets, and her breathing was ragged.

I got no response when I tried to coax her out of the alcove. I reached out to tap her when she suddenly seized my hand. Her eyes looked directly into mine, but her lips stayed silent. They sent a clear message however. I helped her out of the alcove and said, "Get out of here. Don't come back. It's not safe."

She nodded silently as she left. I didn't take the time to watch her leave. Instead, I dashed to the elevator and punched B2.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Down the hall I heard cracks of gunfire echo against the walls. 'They must've attacked Charli,' I thought. I picked up the pace and kept watch for the room. I eventually found it at the end of the hallway. The door was heavy and sealed shut. Starco had just begun to work on it when it slid open. In the doorway, Mr. Yang. A sinister smile etched itself across his face. "Good to see you've decided to join us Mr. Maximus." His voice was much recovered now.

I pointed the gun in his face but stopped just short of pulling the trigger. "Hand over Charli or I blow your face off," I demanded. I should not have even been that courteous. In two swift motions, he disarmed me and pushed my own weapon into my face. My arms were suddenly wrenched back so I couldn't use them.

The smile grew wider. "I would have to argue the contrary my lowly guardian. Drop the weapon or my guards will kill you where you stand and then your human friend."

"What have you done to her?" I yelled.

"Absolutely nothing outside of what we agreed to. Why don't you come see for yourself?" He taunted. Suddenly, I was propelled forward by an invisible foot in my back. Mr. Yang, or whatever his actual name was, chuckled maniacally as he cuffed my hands and hauled me to my feet. Two previously invisible guards materialized behind me and forcibly led me into some kind of control room with screens showing various angles of a simulated battlefield. There six in total, each featuring some view of Charli as she fought through what was supposed to be an open field with a smoldering wreck of a ship in the background. The screen in the center of them all was a direct feed from her helmet, affording us a first person view of what she was doing. One seemed to follow her from above. Two others were devoted to following her from the sides. The final two were more...dynamic. They periodically changed their coverage, featuring in one moment a view from the simulated enemies and then in another a more cinematic view of what was going on, whether it was her running, shooting, or being shot at. If the room wasn't filled with Fallen who knew how to use them, I'd be impressed.

Charli was currently running and strafing around, trying to get a clear shot at a pair of Vandals that would jump side to side while the approached with their blades. She was able to gun down one of them but not before the other was in striking distance. She nimbly sidestepped the first blade and rolled away from the other. Rolling back onto her feet, she dodged another swipe and landed and electrified fist right on the Vandal's torso where it "died." Both Vandals slowly faded away, and Charli took off her helmet with a genuine smile across her face. "You guys need more?" She seemed tired but looked to be having a lot of fun.

Mr. Yang strode over to the headset and slipped it on over his head. "You've given us some great stuff Miss Hendricks. Really great. If we could get one more round, I think we'll have enough for our promos."

Charli shook her matted hair around and slid her helmet back over her face. During their exchange, my eyes hadn't been on either of them. I had been looking at the weapon she was using. It was an Auto Rifle, that much I was sure, but it was different from the weapons I traditionally associated with Suros. It still had the standard sleekness, logo, and iconic white and burnt orange, but it looked thicker from where I was, more dense in the middle. There was a pair of red lights on each side of the weapon that appeared to mark it was recording, but I got a more sinister vibe to them than that. They were visible for a reason beyond fashion, I could feel it.

"What's the target this time?" she asked, holding the weapon vertically and resting it on her shoulder.

"Dregs, Vandals, a couple Captains. Standard Fallen infantry. Should be no problem from what you've shown us. Just watch all of your sides." Mr. Yang turned to me, that devilish smile still etched on his face. "Now where were we?"

"You're a lying piece of Fallen trash," I spat. "Stop hiding behind your mask and show me who you really are." One of the guards kicked me into the control board, sending a few sparks flying and a few buttons went dark momentarily before flashing back on. The other guard hauled me back up and slammed me into it again. More buttons went dark permanently, and there was a large dent in the board.

"That's not how you treat a host," Yang warned, childishly wagging a finger. "But I'll forgive it for the occasion."

Fallen began to appear in waves, growing in number and circumference until Charli was surrounded. For the moment, Charli was handling it well, but there was something about that gun that was bothering me. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but there was something off about that weapon. "What occasion?" I asked.

"Your doom of course. With you two gone, nobody can price we exist, letting us continue undisturbed."

Keep talking. Be as simple minded as I think you are. If I could get him to blab his plans here, we'd be that much better off. Dealing with it would be another issue. "And how would you do that when the Vanguard know we're here?"

Yang snickered. "Simple. Industrial accident that 'accidentally' wipes out the entire foundry and part of the surrounding area. The rest you'll have to find out."

How cliche was this guy gonna be? If the Illusion were like this, then we may stand a better chance on a planning front, but I had a feeling that this was unique to him. We fell silent afterwards, watching Charli as she was slowly getting overrun by her encroaching enemies. She ducked beneath their fire as I stood with the barrel of a rifle in my back. Eventually, she began to take multiple hits, and they looked more solid and painful than the normal simulation. Several of them left black marks on her plates and were accompanied by cries of pain.

She seemed confused by the first couple, but she hadn't said anything besides the grunts. If anything, she seemed to fight harder, angrier. She began shooting less and punching more, most of them electrified, but the unassisted ones looked more painful. All of a sudden, a vandal got a lucky shot on her head, and Charli dropped like a rock.

My anger came alive. I launched myself onto my feet only to get smacked in the back of the head by one of the guards. Once more, I was slammed into the control panel and held against the running current until I sunk to my knees and stopped resisting. Only then did they haul me away from it and throw me onto my back. My arms were bent in an awkward position that made any movement with them uncomfortable and next to impossible.

One of the guards kicked me in the chest and Yang placed another set of cuffs on my legs. I struggled fruitlessly to move the cuffs apart enough to break their magnetic seal, but I didn't get farther than a few centimeters before they snapped back and sent a mild shock through me. It wasn't nearly enough to hurt me severely, the fall earlier had succeeded in that already, but it was noticeable. Making a blind reaction, I kicked my tied up legs and felt them slam against something solid. There was a solid thud almost immediately after, followed by a grunt, incomprehensible words muttered under a wheezing breath, and angry steps. Mr. Yang suddenly grabbed me by the collar, hoisted me off the ground with uncanny strength, and slammed me into the wall. "I've warned you multiple times!" he seethed. "MANY TIMES! You are supposed to sit there like a good prisoner and die when everything is all said and done, but no. You just HAD to be difficult, and make my job thirty times harder. The boss doesn't deal with failure, y'know, so I guess we're just gonna accelerate the process then." Two extra arms, both of them fully skinned as though they were Human or Awoken, a horrifying sight, ripped out from his shirt and flung his suit jacket to the side.. He pulled out a device that looked like a foregrip on a gun, only slanted. It was a metallic gray and had a small, rectangular screen protruding from near the top.

He chortled maniacally. "Unlucky for you that you found us so quickly. We had a few surprises up our sleeve just for you guys." He pointed to Charli on one of the screens, specifically at the rifle she'd been holding. I was still praying that she was alright, but she hadn't moved since taking that blow to the head. The simulated Fallen still patrolled, several of them pointing their weapons at her when the others changed positions. "You see that gun, Metalhead? Never runs out of ammo. It's got a battery that recharges while you move. Unlimited ammo as long as you take a few steps to the left or right every now and again. Mind you, it's still a prototype with one 'fatal' flaw: the battery overheats with excessive use, resulting in a blast equivalent to twenty of your little nova bombs with an even larger radius. Far more than enough firepower leave this building in nothing but ashes. All I have to do is touch this button." The guards left the room. I stayed silent as his finger lingered near the button. I knew he wouldn't push it unless he wanted to die with the rest of us. I wouldn't put it past him though.

While he stood there gloating, I angled myself so I could see the screen that was tracking Charli, currently from the top. She was still lying on the ground motionless, the gun, bomb rather, was sitting just out of her reach. Suddenly, a thought popped into my mind. 'She knows,' it said. I was confused at first, but then felt the compulsion to look at the screen. It looked the same at first glance, but then I looked at her hands. Her right hand was now lying palm down with her middle three fingers extended.

'I went ahead and took a couple liberties after turning off the negation field,' Starco said in another thought. Negation field? I'll have to ask later. Thank goodness for Ghosts and their mysterious ways. 'Charli is a bit beat up, but Vern says she can fight her way out of here.'

Yang's chilling voice yanked me out of my thoughts. "You're doing it aren't you?" He was kneeling beside me a little too close for comfort. His four awkward arms were teeming with excitement but remained relaxed on the floor. "You're talking with your Ghost. Trying to plot something to get out of here unscathed." Charli's fingers counted down one. "It's incredible and incredibly futile. You're friend is completely incapacitated, so I wish you luck trying to send a message."

1…

He retracted his face and started untying my legs and hands in a rather confusing turn of events. I rubbed my wrists. In shock, I didn't punch him right away. "I'm not a monster," he laughed. "You aren't my primary target. The least I could do after telling you that displeasure is give you a minuscule chance to grab your friend before I blow this place sky high." He nonchalantly clicked the detonator. "Good luck," he taunted with a crooked smile.

In a single, fluid motion, Charli rolled backwards onto her feet, fired a few shots from the rifle, and tossed it, sprinting directly toward the one-way wall that separated us.

Yang's jaw cracked satisfyingly as I socked him across the face just as Charl's grenade detonated against the wall. A high-pitched whine filled the room as the wall exploded, and Charli immediately leapt into the air in a circular motion and smashed her way through the hole. I tackled the dazed Mr. Yang and flattened us against the floor. There was a sharp thud combining with a burning sensation in my hands, and a sudden wall of purple paired with the painfully high-pitched noise of the bomb until it was replaced by a crackling explosion, a rumble, and whiteness.

And just as the whiteness reached its climax, all went black.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

From the SFR: I apologize for the brevity of this chapter. It was part of a much larger chapter, but given it was 26 pages on google docs (where I type), I decided to break it up. To put it in perspective, Heart of Darkness, the last chapter to Resurgence of the Light, was 22 pages and I strongly considered breaking it up into 2 as well.

Regardless, huge thanks to every single one of you and watch out for chapter 15 in the next few days.


	16. The Enemy Within

**Chapter 15**

 **The Enemy Within**

I woke up to white again, but this time it was a light inside a fixture overhead. I blinked the blurriness from my vision, or at least tried to, before sitting up. As I did, my arm resisted moving and nearly caused me to lose my balance. Looking at my arm, I saw I was hooked up to several machines monitoring my vitals. The room was a sterile white and gave me an odd sense of unease and comfort. It was the infirmary. How'd I get here?

As if in response, I remembered Mr. Yang pushing the button, a flash of purple, white, and then black. Suros, the device...Charli…

Feeling a surge of distress, I plucked the cords out of my arms to my own discomfort and tried to slide out of the bed. It was then that I noticed I was still wearing my pants, but my robe and chest armor were nowhere to be seen. I felt bare, but then I remembered that also I needed to get a new helmet. I needed to be more careful with my equipment, but at least it's done its job. Now, I had to complete mine. I quickly stood up and dashed over to the window, throwing open the curtains.

It was either morning or evening, I couldn't tell. Clouds of a dispelled or gathering storm painted blood reds and fiery oranges across a multi-colored sky. As my eyes wandered around the cityscape that unfolded in front of me. I didn't see any smoke indicative of the bomb, but I wasn't about to cough that up as an illusion. That had been real, it had to be.

I didn't move from the window for several minutes. I needed to get moving, but there was one thing holding me in place: fear. What had only been a suspicion was now my reality, and I was scared. There were Fallen in the City, in one of the primary foundries that it had, and what evidence did I have that they weren't in the others or walking among us or even in the Tower itself? None.

We needed answers, and Yang would be able to give them to us whether he wanted to or not. Suddenly, two warm arms wrapped themselves around my neck. "Morning sleepyhead," a familiar voice said behind me. I pushed the arms aside and turned around to see an Awoken with brown hair and glowing green eyes.

"Arla!" I exclaimed, returning the embrace. "You're alright."

"For now yes," she said with a smile. "Honestly, you gave us quite the fright the last couple days."

Was I out that long? "Couple days?" I asked.

"Yeah. They found you, Charli, and that guy right where that explosion went off…"

I interrupted, wasting no time. "Where is he?"

"Yang? He's in a holding cell. Starco was adamant that he was Fallen, but we've been unable to get anything out of him, even when Ikora went in. Zavala was a little more successful, but he was barely in there for five minutes."

"Have you tried torture?" I wasn't a fan of it, but it was admittedly useful in the past.

Arla seemed shocked at the notion, falling deathly silent for several seconds. I regretted saying the words almost immediately. "No, Maximus," she said glumly. "We have not tortured him nor will we. Just because this is war does not mean we need to stoop to the enemy's level. We're not heathens."

I wish we hadn't gotten on this subject so quickly. "How do you suppose we're going to talk to someone who won't?"

Arla grinned. "For that, my dear Max, we have ways. Follow me." She turned around and waved off the doctors trying to make their way over to me, telling them I was just fine. As far as I could tell and remember, I hadn't sustained any injury beyond that fall off the building, something that was still a miracle. So, I was a little sore, but I would be able to function just fine.

Starco spawned in my robe and I slipped it over my bare chest. It felt like a void surrounded me as I put it on without my armor. After the initial wave of doctors, nobody bothered us as we exited the infirmary. She pushed the button on the lift and entered when it opened. I followed suit and readjusted my robe so it fit better on my shoulders. The doors shut, and it accelerated down in a sudden jolt. Arla leaned against the back wall of the elevator and closed her eyes.

There was something different about her demeanor. It was harder, colder. I couldn't tell if it was her new set of circumstances or what I said, perhaps both. Honestly though, I didn't like it, and to change that, we needed to clear the air at least somewhat. "Is everything alright? You seem...tense." It was rather direct, but I figured it'd get to the point in the short ride we'd have on the elevator, given she opened up.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. "I'm sorry Max," she said. Looks like she was opening up. "It's nothing you did. I'm just trying to cope with all…" she threw her arms out and above her head. "...this." Her voice sounded tired. "I'm mortal for the first time since trying to escape the Reef. It's...weird."

"What do you mean?"

She straightened her posture. "The next time I die in the field or anywhere that's it. Every moment could be my last. I can feel a void in myself, a hole where Stargazer had been, and I didn't even know it. I wish there was an easier way to explain it. I just…It's hard to fathom that I've entered the last phase of my life."

She trailed off, leaving us quiet for several seconds as I chose how to respond. I couldn't imagine the inner turmoil that she was feeling. I looked into her eyes and saw stifled tears gathering behind their. Arla hadn't hardened herself because she wanted to be; she did so because the one moment she went soft was the moment she would take a fatal shot. "I'm not going to pretend to understand your predicament, but it's the way we respond to these trials that define who we are as people."

Her confidence seemed to regenerate steadily. "And that's why I'm gonna keep fighting as long as I still have some life left in these bones. Those scum are going to regret the day they were born."

The lift door opened. "Speaking of scum…" I said, gesturing towards the door.

"Thank you," she said with a grin. We exited the lift with the doors clanging shut behind us. The corridor we were in was dimly lit and silent. Heavy metal doors lined the hallways with panels next to each one's frame. A green light shone on all of them save for one at the end of the hall. This must've been where they kept the interrogation rooms. It looked generally unused, perhaps due to Guardians' tendencies to kill more than they captured. Despite that, there was a singular frame at the end of the hall with a broom sweeping the floor. "Don't make eye contact," Arla warned. I was not about to question why. There was something eerie about the hallway as we walked through. Invisible eyes seemed to stare into my back as I walked.

Moments later we stood in front of the door with the red light. The panel was close to eye level for Arla and just an inch or two under mine. She held her eye to the scanner, and the door slid open almost immediately. Inside was a room that was surprisingly darker than the hallway. The walls looked like limitless voids whose expanse was broken only by a dim light reflecting off the floor or the large window that saw into the next room. Sitting in a metal chair was a haggard Mr. Yang. He was currently asleep on the gray table in front of him and not moving a muscle. He almost looked like a corpse, but the gentle rises and falls of his chest said otherwise.

"The man's crazy," Arla stated, folding her arms across her chest in front of the glass. "Keeps talking about how their day will come and we'll be powerless to stop him."

"He's smart though," I countered. "He knows how to get under your skin and trap you." This must have been the reason they were so eager for Charli to come. They likely assumed Arla and I would come along to watch, and in one fell swoop, they could get rid of practically any opposition. The only problem was I had no idea if this was a puppet or the puppet master. That was a question I was hoping Variks would be able to answer when we sat down and talked. Hopefully he had some insight. "That...thing handed Charli a bomb and held her hostage without her even knowing."

"Yeah he's gloated about that a time or two. To me, this guy sounds like something out of a bad show."

"True, but I don't think most Illusion are going to be like him. We could be lucky and got the oddball." I folded my arms and kept watching Yang as he slept there. Arla began nimbly twirling her knife in her fingers. "So what ways were you referring to earlier?" I asked, changing the subject slightly.

She stopped twirling the knife and slipped it in its sheath. "Heksis agreed to use his expertise on him."

"I thought he was a cqc specialist. Why not send me?" I wasn't really irritated, but it bothered me a little that I had captured him and now had to sit shotgun while someone else did the job I should be doing.

"It's no offense to you, but we had no idea when you'd wake up. Somehow several chips and circuits in your body fried for some reason. No notable damage to any of your systems, but now you won't have to do maintenance for awhile. Docs and the bots feared the worst though. You'll probably have to go back in a few days just so they can check up on how everything's integrating." Of course they would...never a day that they're not worrying about something. I turned my head to see Arla looking right back at me. Her face had that half-grin that I'd known, the first time I'd seen that since she went down. "In Heksis case though, looks can be deceiving. Not everything is as meets the eye."

"Tell me about it," I said, turning back to Yang. This guy was the classic example, but it was about time we removed his mask; the question was how. For that, I asked Arla. "Have you guys tried to interrupt his disguise at all?"

"Yep, but we haven't been successful, obviously." She sounded a bit annoyed at that fact but continued. "We tried looping tones with varying frequencies to possibly disrupt the disguise…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupted. "Back up. Are you saying that the disguise is machine-based?"

"They scanned him shortly after bringing him in. There are some profound differences between them and standard Fallen." Oh joy…"For one, their muscles are much more stronger and more toned. This, the docs say, could just be their training or the implants."

"Implants? Like augmentations?"

"We don't know their exact nature, but the docs theorize it plays some part in their disguises. Thought a tone high or low enough would be able to disrupt their function. Nothing worked before the systems shorted out."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Crap. Was the tone maxed out?"

A flicker of confusion shot across her face. "No, and the system we used to make the tones was practically brand new, just hadn't been used in a couple months." I almost asked if it was sabotage, but Arla seemed to read it off my face somehow. "And no, it wasn't sabotaged. We've have this guy in a lead box the entire time. No comms going in or out. They would need agents who knew what was going on to know we had Yang in custody."

"Who knows the full details of Yang and Suros?"

"The Vanguard, us, and Heksis to a lesser extent."

"How's Charli?" I felt terrible for never even asking if she was alright; I'd been so caught up in finding out about Arla and Yang...

"She's been out since the incident as well. Extreme overexertion the docs said. I'm surprised you didn't ask earlier. She was awake yesterday long enough to walk to her room. My guess is that she's been sleeping off that migraine." There was silence for a moment as I thought back to the seconds just before the bomb went off.

Charli threw a grenade at the wall and leapt through the hole. Meanwhile, I punched Yang across his smug face and broke his jaw. While Yang was still shocked by my blow, I brought both of us to the ground and prepared for the heat. My hands burned first, and then there was the wall of purple that turned into white, and then black. Wait a minute...I rewinded my mental footage to the point I tackled Yang. The explosion had not come until just before the white and black, meaning that the hot sensation was caused by something else. I pushed it forward and smashed my fist against Yang's fake jaw, bringing him down right after. Charli's wall of purple energy shielded us, and then came the burning sensation. I focused on my hands rather than Charli's heroic form as she threw out her Ward of Dawn. They were blanketed in a white aura, a bright light, that began extending itself toward Charli as she prepared for the explosion's force. Soon, her hands were covered in the white light as well. The shield went from purple, to a light blue and then to an opaque off-white. It was then that the fire cut out and I was left in darkness.

I reopened my real eyes back in the interrogation room, or rather the room next to it. I felt a new presence in the room with Arla and me. Turning towards the door, I saw a new figure step into the dull lights. While still a proclaimed Warlock, Heksis seemed to be a little bit of everything, or at least that's how he came off to me. The body armor on his legs and torso were blue, largely covered by a dark green robe similar to my own, but seemingly a bit thinner. He had his hood drawn up over his head, and the only part of his helmet that stuck out was a blood red visor. His personality was even more contradictory: quiet to some, loud with others, and Arla even claimed he could be quite the prankster. Looking at the sharp blades at his sides, I didn't ever want to be a part of those pranks. He also had a pair of modified hand cannons placed just behind the blades' hilts. Intimidating to me? No. To others? Yes. Odd? All day every day. The sharpest tool in the shed? In my opinion, no. He came off as awkward to a stranger, but that wore off as you got to know him. That was yet to occur for me, but he was completely comfortable around Arla.

The two had an arm each wrapped around the other as they watched Yang sleep. Arla had him by a couple inches, and maybe a few brain cells, but I wasn't about to stand in the way of their relationship. On the same note however, I was going to let him make the first move. A few seconds later, that came in the form of the pair exiting the room and stepping into the hallway.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Arla Nublier

Arla and Heksis moved towards a seemingly ordinary piece of wall, leaving Maximus to his thoughts. She searched for a few moments against its smooth, black surface and finally touched one spot just to the right of her shoulder. The cool metal peeled back and revealed a bright, white light that stood absolutely still at the divide between the two rooms. The two were silent as they entered, letting the metal slide shut behind them. Before they took a step further, Arla planted herself in front of Heksis. "Before I let you at him, I need you to promise he'll walk out of that room alive." Her face was deadpan. "NOT in little pieces," she emphasized.

Arla didn't mean for it to sound rude, but she wasn't going to hide the fact that she was a little frustrated by his decision to leave her while in the infirmary. When someone you care about is hurt, common sense, common courtesy, says you should stay by their side, not go who knows where for "urgent business." That's why you have seconds-in-command. This frustration didn't exclude Charli and Maximus and their excursion to Suros , but one, they'd been on a under orders for the Vanguard and thus had to go, and two, they had gotten hurt in the process, making them unable to sit at her bedside. Of course, she'd have to ask Maximus some serious questions as to why he only took Charli on something potentially dangerous.

Words for later though. Right now was all about getting Hek in there and that piece of garbage in a prison cell or the morgue.

"Question. How many of these shape shifting spider pirates did you find? You get a sample of the weaponry? And the devices they use to mimic other beings? I could definitely put that kind of tech in the right hands y'know."

Arla was stunned for a moment. These were not the questions that she had been expecting out of him. She had expected him to at least acknowledge the tension in her voice but to no avail. What he said was behind them. Arla did have to internally applaud him for keeping his mind on the task at hand.

Her mind and mouth back where they were supposed to be, Arla thought for a moment. "I highly doubt it, but I'm not one hundred percent sure. Ikora didn't mention anything recovered from the explosion besides this guy, Charli, and Max. Nothing else to recover. From what I saw on my visit, nothing left but a crater."

Arla and Heksis moved farther down the hall. The entrance to the room wasn't far from here, just one more right. "As for the tech, we still haven't been able to shut it off." Arla looked at Heksis eyes behind the mask. She could've sworn she saw the faint glow behind the blood red visor but couldn't be certain. "Look, let's focus on getting some info outta this piece of garbage. Then we'll focus on what he's made of. Capeesh?"

"Garbage? You haven't even seen them yet." The blue robed warlock mumbled quietly as he followed along, letting out a soft cough as they neared the corner.

"I don't plan on seeing what he's made of. In fact...I'm pretty sure he became decommissioned before I even walked through the door. Your friends certainly did I good job." He muttered, leaning his head to the sides back and forth for a moment as they walked around the corner.

"But...given my experiences I think I would know the fallen pretty well. Tell me...what is the one thing that every fallen wants? That every fallen fights to have?" Heksis asked.

Arla couldn't help but think that it was a trick question. She paused in front of the door, hidden from Yang's side but readily apparent on theirs. "Power? The Traveler? Freedom? I don't know," she said with a shrug.

"To survive," Heksis answered definitively. "The Kells and the Barons may talk about glorious assaults on the city, breaking down those walls and massacring every dirty, filthy flat face they find. But the real fallen? The grunts? They just want food. They just want to stay alive. Now...why a fallen would want to live in the city itself? I don't know. Maybe he just really really liked the pancakes or omelettes perhaps?"

"Well, it's about time he picks up the tab," the huntress concluded. Arla pushed a button on the wall that slid the door open and revealed a conscious Mr. Yang standing in the doorway. An evil grin stretched its way across his smug face. "Glad to see I have company," he mused. Frozen in surprise, Arla suddenly felt herself lifted into the air and began choking on her own neck. She helplessly followed the inhumanly strong hand from her own throat to the arm and shoulder of Mr. Yang.

Heksis jumped back in surprise and instinctively pulled his two swords out of their sheathes, taking a small step back from the figure. Arla tried to reach for her knife when two other arms seized her own, causing her to drop it. She tossed her gaze over to Heksis. Behind the mask she could see the conflict in his glowing eyes: kill or maim?

"SORRY ABOUT THIS!" The warlock shouted, sheathing his swords and throwing a palm forward. An invisible force slammed into Arla and Yang and sent them flying to the opposite side of the room. In mid-air, Yang threw his weight to one side and made it so Arla smashed into the table with her back.

Pain coursed through her back as it bent awkwardly, no snap of bones thankfully, but it was going to be sore for certain. Fueled by adrenaline and rage, Arla struggled to her knees and coughed as she gasped for air. She looked towards the wall she knew was one-way glass, but she couldn't tell if Maximus was even there. Suddenly, a heavy force and sharp pain in her gut threw her onto her side. Heavy footsteps and Yang's increasingly maniacal cackling filled the room. She felt a hot breath drift across her face that smelled like death itself and caused her to shut her eyes. "I'm rather...disappointed the great Arla Nublier doesn't even have the guts to interrogate me herself, let alone fight me." Two things suddenly slipped from her person, one near her waist and the other her torso. Yang moved yet closer to her ear. "First, you don't even go with your friends to Suros to visit me. Then, you try to send that traitorous friend of yours in here." Arla opened her eyes through the pain just as he gestured towards the door. Heksis smashed into it again. The metal had several dents that would no doubt prohibit it from opening. Arla just hoped he knew what he was doing. "You know what that says to me, my dear Huntress? Do you?" Arla didn't respond. "That you're a coward. Afraid to face your past. You haven't had the guts to be honest with your fellow men and women for years." Yang squatted in front of her and laughed. "Oho, I can see it in your eyes. You know who I am, and you know what I'm talking about."

"No…." Arla grunted through gritted teeth. "I don't."

"Ah," Yang chuckled. "Still lying through your teeth. He warned me about this. Told me you were so young and stupid back then, and never really caught onto the details until it was too late. Didn't have the guts to look back on your actions." A murderous smile that crazy couldn't even begin to describe curled onto his face. "Worry not. I did it for you, and you won't need the guts for anything in a minute." His voice grew hushed. "And the best part is: nobody's coming to help you." Yang began to chuckle maniacally. Arla glanced at her knife and pistol being clutched in his hands and then towards the door. The dents were deeper now, making the door much more obvious to the unknowing eye. If Hek was going to do something, now was the time for drastic measures.

The sharp click of a pistol being primed echoed through the room and an unseen object, frigid to her skin, forced itself against her temple. Something equally sharp pressed against her already pain-stricken stomach. "Finally, vengeance for my grandfather."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door…

Heksis immediately put his left hand up in front of him, quickly spreading his hand out as his ghost materialized in his hand. The ghost had a standard shell, except the shell looked like it had taken immense amounts of punishment. A spiderweb of cracks ran down from the top, with the largest crack running for right down the center and between the machine's single blue eye.

"Activate Model number 23 from the bruiser section of my ship. Spawn it at my current location." The warlock commanded, with the crackled ghost immediately giving a rapid nod of approval, recognizing the worry in it's Guardian's voice.

"Spawning now Guardian!"

A loud thud thumped behind him as the robot beamed in. The warlock made a gentle turn to face the machine behind him, and it certainly was a sight.

Two wheels, one directly on top of the other, in the middle of the robots cylinder shaped frame. In the front right in the middle of the machine's chassis were five large cameras, all of which were meant to be installed on a frame, rather than a Frankenstein creation such as this.

The truly intimidating factor were the two gigantic metal arms on both sides of the robot, with several machine gun barrels sticking out of tiny holes in the shoulders, the machine was a brute, capable of tearing through the defenses of any enemy it was sent against with ease. The four fingered hands were smaller in comparison to the rest of the arm, but large enough to grab onto a heavy object to throw, and small enough to wrap around a dreg's throat.

He stepped out of the way of the robot, picking up the sword he'd dropped as he did. Once he was out of the way, he brought his left hand up, pointing it at the door.

"Command: Rescue the awoken guardian in the room, capture anyone else, painfully if possible." The warlock commanded, venom in his voice near the end of his command.

"Confirmed. Simplification. RESCUE AWOKEN. BREAK LEGS OF ANYONE ELSE. Beginning now." The robot said in a chirpy, static tone as the rolled forward toward the door, leaning forward slightly as it slammed into the door. After a few smashes, the door was noticeably dented, rendering it unable to open manual now.

Suddenly, a gunshot shattered the air. Heksis cursed himself and shouted, "GET THAT DOOR OPEN NOW!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Arla found herself floating in a blank void. Still, she clutched her gut, feeling the pulsating pain, but death did not seem to give her that sweet release. Truthfully, she felt even more panicked than she had been before her gun went off. Her heart still raced rapidly, and her lungs still felt the need to breathe. Was this what final, true death felt like?

Suddenly, an ear-splitting tone forced her to fruitlessly cover her ears and twist her face in pain. It was then that she felt the cold floor beneath her. There was something warm spreading across her waist along with something light and slippery. Arla recoiled at the thought of seeing her innards spread across the floor in front of her and squeezed her eyes tighter, impatiently waiting for death, but another bang jolted her back into reality. Heksis was still fighting, so she was going to as well, bowels or not, until she couldn't fight any longer.

Arla barely peeked through one eye at first, seeing the dark color of blood coating the floor and smelling its rusty odor. She squeezed it shut again immediately and steeled her nerves for the gory sight that was about to lay before her. Once again, she opened only one out-of-focus eye, but as her vision cleared, she opened the other out of pure shock. Yang lay on his face supported by bent knees. Purple-red blood leaked from his mouth and the arm that had once held her knife lay empty-handed and equally lifeless at her thigh, one of her hands was almost touching a one of his, stained with his own blood. Arla quickly snagged her knife off the floor and kicked away from the corpse, holding the knife in its direction as she did so.

At what she presumed was a safe distance, she patted herself, looking for a bullet hole. Finding none, she looked about the room and still came up empty. It was then that she noticed the overhead light's glint seemed to bend unnaturally on some of the dark, yet reflective surfaces. There was one inches from where her head had been, one in the ceiling off to her immediate right, another in the floor closer to the one-way glass, then the opposite wall, and finally the one-way glass where the bullet had buried itself. The embedded projectile was only partially buried in the glass, not passing all the way through but going far enough to cause a few cracks.

Calming herself down, she stood up and wiped her hand clean of Yang's blood. She pulled up her left wrist and activated the small communicator she kept in it. "Maximus, you there?" she asked. THUD! Heksis apparently didn't know what had happened. The impacts had become increasingly frequent since Arla had regained her hearing and probably since the gunshot. She could only imagine the panic going through his mind. Serves him right, Arla thought.

"I'm here," he responded a couple seconds later. "How'd it go?" His voice sounded worried.

THUD! "What d'you mean by 'how'd it go?' You say everything. That butthead attacked me!"

"Wait, slow down. How did Yang do that? He was out cold."

Arla stopped. "Okay, hold up. I'm confused. Where are you right now?"

Maximus grunted as he tried to push or pull something. "I'm doing some maintenance on my ship before we head to the Reef."

"Why'd you leave? More importantly, who opened the door?"

"Zavala came in pretty much as soon as you two went through the door. Told me to prepare my ship to leave in a few hours. Said he'd hold down the fort in the control room." There was silence from both sides. Zavala got on her nerves sometimes. He'd been adamant to the others to let him have another go at the prisoner. "So what happened exactly?" Maximus eventually asked.

"It's all a bit of a blur, but Yang was standing by the door when, I guess, Zavala opened it. He grabbed me by the throat and was about to kill me when Heksis used that palm thing and sent us flying into the interrogation room. I smashed my back into the table while Yang was relatively unharmed it seemed. He kicked me in the stomach and grabbed my knife and gun, holding them to my gut and head. He said something about avenging his grandfather like I had something to do with his death."

"And then Heksis busted in?"

Arla glanced at the door. THUD! She decided it was best to ignore the impacts and focus on what her teammate was saying. "No, he's still trying to get in. At this point, he has to knock it down because there's a massive dent that'll keep it from going up."

"What about Yang?"

"He's...dead. I didn't see, but there was a gunshot, and then I found him keeled over. He didn't shoot himself, but I have no clue how he died. I just know it's disgusting and I want out of here."

"Well crap…" Maximus said, a little discouraged at the news. "When you're done there, meet me at the ship. We're going to pay Variks a little visit. Tell Hek if he wants to come along he's welcome, but we have to take my ship. Variks sent a message and warned that if I did, the meeting was off, and all ships would be treated as hostiles."

This rebellion has all of them on edge. Arla thought. "I'll extend the invitation." She looked over to the door. "I wouldn't keep my hopes up. Perhaps he has more 'urgent business' to attend to."

"Well, we won't know until we ask him. I'll see you at the ship. Don't be too long."

Maximus closed the channel from his end. Arla walked over to the glass and looked at her reflection in it. She internally laughed at the rather strange design of this comparatively older interrogation room. The reflection was oddly out of place against the other black walls, but perhaps that was an intimidation technique. Let the prisoner know people were watching beyond the glass, and let him/her see just how guilty (or psychotic) he/she looks.

A thought suddenly popped into Arla's mind, creating a wry smile on her face. Still grinning, she pulled out her pistol and fired four bullets into several parts of the glass, each one embedding itself into the glass and sending cracks all across its surface. Arla quickly followed it by a swift kick into the glass, shattering it into thousands of pieces and revealing an empty room. She vaulted over the control panel and now-exposed wiring, but paused only for a moment to hear that the pounding now seemed to come in impossibly quick pairs, almost like a heartbeat.

As she approached the door, she pulled out partially-empty magazine, stored it in a pocket, and pushed in a fresh one. She momentarily flicked her gun into its grappling hook mode, just to make sure the hook was still there. and then slid it back into place.

Using her free hand, she pressed the button that peeled back the metal and stepped through. "Hek!" Arla called out above an odd yet familiar metallic whirring that echoed around the corner. As she stepped closer, the whirring grew more intense. Every second or so, a pair of loud bangs bounced down the hall above the noise, quickly followed by a grunt and labored breathing. She changed her approach and crept to the corner silently. Peering around the corner unseen, she found Heksis standing next to one of his robots. She couldn't remember the specific model number, he'd shown her around a couple times in the past, but somewhere in the back of her mind she thought of the numbers 23 and 32, just couldn't remember which was right. It was a brute of a machine, built for pursuing enemies and gunning them down, but Hek had mentioned it could try to force open doors.

Heksis' chest heaved with each breath, but the machine pulled backward unaffected by any sort of fatigue. Arla couldn't see the door, but she could only guess that it wasn't going to hold much longer. "One more time," Heksis muttered. He felt along the wall with his hands and suddenly kicked off of it, flying straight into the door just as his machine shot forward. The two hit almost simultaneously, and the sharp sound of metal against tile rang out as a section of the door came loose and slid against the ground. Drawing his swords, Hek and the robot vanished through the hole, prepared to strike, but then recoiled when he saw that Yang was lying dead on the floor without Arla anywhere to be seen.

Her timing only guesswork, Arla strode over to the door and peeked through a barely four-foot high hole. "Hey Heksis," Arla teased from behind the door.

The warlock looked surprised by her sudden appearance from around the corner, and, in a flash of movement, slid the sword down its sheath and watches her from behind the sights of a hand cannon.

"You were not supposed to kill him Arla," he muttered, aiming slightly above her head. Hek must've suspected it was a trick, something she hadn't considered. Perhaps he thought Yang had actually knocked her out or killed her, and used whatever disguise technology he had to change both of their forms and waltz out of here. Hek was not one to take chances.

"Yang is dead, and I don't believe it for a second. We're now no closer to figuring them out, and what's worse, he could've switched you out. Try to pretend to be you, so he could escape." He slowly pulled the hammer back on his hand cannon with his thumb.

"I shoot above your head. The disguise doesn't change them physically right? So that means if your Yang, shooting right above your head would blow his off. Assuming you're Yang."

Arla holstered her weapon and stepped through the hole with her palms out, the barrel following her all the way through. She kept them up as she straightened her posture. "Look, I didn't kill him, and he certainly didn't kill me." She ventured a step closer, but Heksis re-emphasized his grip on the weapon and the situation, so she stepped back. Her eyes noticed something behind him. "If you don't want to lose a girlfriend, I think you should lower your weapon and turn around."

"Of course, and then when my back is turned you'll kill me." The glow of Heksis' eyes was think behind his mask. Arla knew that look even with his nearly opaque mask obscuring it: the face of a determined killer. He would pull the trigger if he even sensed danger. Arla held her breath as she stared down the barrel for a few seconds more, hoping that he would consider her logic before doing something he'd ultimately regret. The eyes disappeared for a moment. "Fine," he relented. "I believe you." He pushed the hammer forward and shoved the gun into its holster. "These guys don't seem the overt type anyways."

"Well, he's not being covert now." Arla said, gesturing to Yang's dead body on the ground. Keeping a hand near his hand cannon, whether for her or him Arla knew not, they approached it. "Yang" continued to lay in a crumpled, lifeless heap but now, sleek, dark green armor peeked out from the now-ill-fitting suit. His human features now gone, Yang revealed what had replaced him: Fallen.

"Honestly, I have no idea how he died," Arla started. "He had me on the ground with my own weapons turned against me, but then nothing ever came of it. He just...died all of a sudden." Arla began looking over the body as she spoke, looking across the back and then flipping it over and searching the torso. "Heksis looked at her strange, causing her to pause momentarily. "I didn't kill him, I swear. Look." She began showing him multiple sections of Yang's corpse: the back and neck on one side, and his torso, throat, and head on the other. "See? No bullet holes or slash marks. I'm no doctor but to me it looks like he died of something internal." Arla stood up with a small groan, the pain in her abdomen returning. She guessed it could be a fractured rib or two. "Well, let's get this guy down to medical. Get this guy checked out. Would you mind carrying him?"

"Ha!" Heksis yelled. "Why carry him when we can have others do it for us? 23!"

"Activated and ready for tasking," a robotic voice said from behind the door.

"Here. Ask him to get it. I've programmed this one to take commands from you, added your face and voice to the list of authorities. Anything you say, my bots will do. Within reason of course."

Arla felt a sudden sense of pride in being added to his robot's authority database was quite the honor given he wasn't very social and kept only an inner circle of friends. Among which, she could only name herself, Ikora, and possibly Maximus. Any others, Arla was not fully familiar with. Though she was mystified at how quickly the situation had turned. In the last few minutes, he'd gone from pointing a gun in her face to offering her to command his robots. It was then that she realized it must be a test, probably one of the reasons he kept one of his hands so close to one of his hand cannons.

"Unit 23 right?" she asked quietly. Heksis nodded slowly. Her eyes wandered to the hand staying near the hand cannon for a moment but then turned to the hole. "Unit 23!" she called out confidently.

"Arla Nublier confirmed. Ready for tasking," the robotic voice answered.

"Come take this piece of trash to the medbay." Heksis quietly snickered.

"Confirmed. Take trash to medbay." There was a whirring sound followed by a couple clicks. "Error. Error. No trash or trash receptacle detected." Heksis snickered again, and Arla shot him a glare. "What?" he said. "Not all AIs are like Exos." The Huntress rolled her eyes and turned back to the hole. "Unite 23! Please carry this dead Fallen to the Medbay for an autopsy."

"Dead Eliksni detected. Carrying to medical bay." The robot gave the door one last, powerful charge and made the hole large enough for it to come through. Once in, it slung the Illusion scum onto its frame and rolled out of the room towards the exit and lift. Arla and Heksis followed suit. As the doors opened, Unit 23 exited first with Heksis behind it, ensuring the body didn't fall off. Arla, however, hung back a few steps, fished her phone out of a pocket at her hip and called Maximus. He picked up on the second ring.

"What's up Arla?" he greeted.

"Hey Max, we're delivering the body to the medbay now. We'll be at the ship in about five minutes."

"Any odd glances?" he asked jokingly.

"None yet," she responded with a smile. "Just got off the elevator. I'm sure they've had stranger requests."

"Right. Bringing in a minion of the darkness with strange markings and powers is totally the norm around here," Max said sarcastically.

"Like you'd know the norm for the medical bay."

"We've certainly kept them busy the last few months," he chuckled.

"True," Arla returned. "See ya at the ship."

Arla just about clicked off when Maximus' voice came through again. "Hey wait. Is Heksis coming? Starco wants to know if he should prepare a seat."

"I was about to ask. I'll shoot you a text when I know. See you in five." Arla pulled her phone off her ear and slid it back into the pocket. Heksis waited by the entrance, fiddling with something at the rear of the robot. He straightened as Arla approached and pushed the button to open the door.

Arla and, to a lesser extent, Heksis recoiled at the wave of smell that slammed into them. It smelled like sterilizing agents, sweat, and sleep deprivation, a smell that Arla had never gotten used to. For the most part, the waiting room was empty, the only constant inhabitant was a white robot at the front desk staring lifelessly into the distance until they came within a few feet. Once they'd entered its range of interaction, it spoke in a simulated woman's voice. "Hello. How may I help you?"

Arla placed an elbow on the desk. "We're here to see Dr. Miranda."

"One moments please Miss Nublier." The robot typed something into its computer, and within a minute, Dr. Herman Miranda appeared in the door of the waiting room.

Herman was a man of stout stature, but his personality made him seem larger than anyone in the room. For a man so attuned to death, he was remarkably resilient. Arla knew that at one point he'd been a Titan but quit years ago for some reason unknown to her and probably most people who knew him because while he seemed larger than life, something in his eyes was...off. One brown eye seemed frozen in place whilst the other flitted about at twice the speed, as if compensating for its partner's lack. However, both flew open at the sight of a Fallen in a suit. "Uh, we best go into my office," he somehow got out amongst his obvious surprise.

His office was only a hallway away and the third door on the right. Dr. Miranda rushed them into the office and locked the door behind him. It wasn't large by any means but it wasn't quite claustrophobic despite the lack of windows. There was however a door that led to a large room that could've been a morgue or lab. "What in the world are you thinking Arla?!" he shouted through a whisper. "Why did you bring me a Fallen corpse?"

Arla tried to settle him down. "I told you I was going to bring you something you'd never seen before."

"However, you didn't mention it was a FALLEN. There are rules against this!"

"I know the rules, but this is with the vanguard's permission. I promise." Arla knew he'd be uptight on the rules, so she'd prepared a lie on the way up. Had she planned on Yang dying? Yes, but not in the way she'd predicted. She figured Hek would kill him once he ceased to be useful, or she'd kill him herself, perhaps even offer to let Maximus do it if he was awake by that time. Regardless, he dropped dead almost literally, and they needed answers.

His face seemed to smooth, but his brows remained furrowed with conflict. Dr. Miranda sucked in a breath and pushed it out. The brows stated but his voice relaxed this time. "Alright. What happened?"

Arla nodded to Heksis who in turn signaled the robot to transfer the body from his frame to the examining table in the adjacent room. Heksis went through the door but lingered close by, signaling the body he dropped at the nearest table.

"We're not sure. We had him in the interrogation rooms, and he tried to break out when Hek here was going back there. Then, he suddenly dropped dead."

"And you want me to find out?" he asked, pointing to himself.

"Among other things." Herman motioned for more, "This Fallen isn't like normal Fallen. It can cloak itself as another being. We want you to figure out how they do it."

"Look," he said calmly. "I'm a pathologist. I find out how things die for the City in and to a lesser extent the Tower. Dissection like this isn't necessarily my forte." Arla's heart began to sink. She wasn't about to force him to do it. Heksis was a self-proclaimed expert on the Eliksni, so he could slice and dice to see what he could find, but he had no formal training to her knowledge of using a blade in a non-combative way. "But, I'll make an exception," he finally relented. "If the Fallen are advancing, it's our job to stay two steps ahead. I'll need some time though. This kind of thing isn't instant."

"How long do you need?" Arla asked, concerned.

"A few hours at the least. A day at the most." This wasn't the best of news to Arla, but she would have to accept it as she had no other option that wouldn't result in the complete annihilation of their evidence the Illusion were in the City. "It'll have to do," Arla responded. "I'll leave you to it." Heksis alone walked out of the room, Arla assuming that the not had been sent back to his ship via his ghost. With a slight nod towards the door, the pair made their exit from both the office and the medical area.

As they approached the lift, Arla popped the question. "Hey Hek, I was wondering if you wanted to come with Maximus and me to talk to Variks. We could use your expertise."

"In the Reef? I'm not interested in being thrown into his arena ever again. So if that's why you wanna see him, I'm out." The warlock muttered with a tone of distain when she brought up the vandals name.

"We aren't done here anyways...more of these Illusion could be present. We should talk to the vanguard, full lock down of everything within 100 meters, no one leaves until we get this figured out. Say there's been a radiation accident, and that people in the blast radius could be contaminated. Suros will take the fall for it."

The lift doors opened, and the pair stepped inside. Arla leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed and her eyes lowered. Heksis was right, but there hadn't been any lingering radiation from the blast, a miscalculation on their part if they were going for terror. "Locking down the tower will do us no good. We have no evidence they can emulate a guardian to the extent they did Yang. He was flesh and blood. Besides, we have no way of actually determining who's real and who isn't. The best thing we can do for everyone is to find out who they are exactly and find out a way to stop them." The doors opened slowly, revealing a cloudy outside with a slight bit of wind. The sun peeked through in the distance, but the clouds quickly moved to cover it.

"Then how about you just mow everyone down? Then we just revive them and pay them for their troubles. The guilty will die and the innocent will live on," he suggested.

Arla's mouth fell agape, appalled by the suggestion in every cell and atom in her body. That was dishonorable and boneheaded in almost every facet of Arla's imagination. Executing every Guardian would take weeks and reveal little to nothing. Not to mention the uproar it would cause in the Tower and possibly the City if word leaked out. It was insensitive, par for Heksis' course, but almost to the point of inexcusable even for someone of his bluntness and social awkwardness.

It was radical and stupid, but it was also partially partially right. Then a thought came across her mind, one that made her blood boil. "What about people like me?" Arla asked, making her irritation known. "Ones without a ghost to revive them? You plan to just shoot me and all the others without ghosts? Because you sure as heck know I'm not gonna raze everyone." Arla didn't realize that her voice began carrying out of the open elevator and drawing eyes to her. "And the civilians, what about them? Yang, for all intents and purposes, was one Heksis. You can't just kill put a gun in their face and pull the trigger. They can't be revived like you, like Maximus, like almost everybody else!" Arla ran her hands aggressively through her hair. She could feel tears gathering in her eyes. Her voice quieted but became shaky despite its fierceness. "Th-There are two sides to this war." She gestured to the pistol on her hip. "The one we fight with guns…" She then pointed outside to the elevator toward the City. "...and the one we fight with our actions. You can't favor one or the other otherwise you'll lose."

"True words Miss Nublier," a hearty voice interrupted. Arla looked up to see Commander Zavala standing to the left of the lift. "War is a complex thing that nobody will ever fully understand. Much like this situation here." Zavala leaned in towards Heksis and sniffed unpleasantly. "Do I smell a problem here warlock?" There was a bit of sting in his voice.

Before Heksis could respond, Arla put a hand in front of him and blurted, "No. We were just leaving." She turned her head to the side and said, "Meet me at Maximus' ship if you want to come. It's bright green and doesn't have enough room for bad ideas." With that, Arla turned and stomped her way to the hangar, eyes watching each step and then turning back to Heksis who remained cemented to the elevator.

The guardian stood at the elevator for a few seconds more, staring at the huntress as she walked off to the hangar and then back at the Vanguard Titan. Heksis lowered his head and eyes to the Zavala's feet submissively. "I-I'm going to be going with them..." he muttered quietly.

Zavala twisted his face into a sneering scowl. "Then go along..." Zavala pointed a stern finger. "...but remember your place. Because you're not one of us," he spat, turned on his heel, and walked away. " There was a sense of finality in the words. As he walked away, Heksis shot him a hateful look behind his helmet and adjusted his collar.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hello again, its the SFR. Just wanted to take a minute of your time to give a HUGE thanks to my good friend PegLegDregsNeedTheirMeds for playing Heksis in this chapter and in chapters to come. If you're familiar with his page and character, I think you might want to check it out again because he's rolling out a brand new story (that yours truly edits from time to time ;) ) for Heksis. If you haven't checked him out, show him some love and tell him I sent ya.

Once again, I can't thank you all enough for your continued support of this story. You are all fantastic, and I'm glad I can (hopefully) make you day just a little better.


	17. A New Kind of War

**Chapter 16**

 **A Different Kind of War**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

"Alright," I said, moving my hand toward the edge of the console. "Take care Charli." The Titan smiled and beat me to closing the video link. Charli had looked a bit worse for wear, but she was otherwise alright. Her voice and especially her face were full of sleep, her mind almost in a dream-like state as she spoke. I hadn't meant to wake her up, but after I'd run the diagnostics on the ship, I really felt as though I should check on her, if nothing else, to make sure she was fine and didn't want to come along with Arla, me, and possibly Heksis. As I had expected, she had declined, choosing to continue to sleep off her fatigue. If memory served me correctly, that was her first Ward of Dawn, which could very well explain her extremely tired state, but it didn't quite sit right with me. She seemed to know what she was doing, where to place it and hold it against one of the most powerful explosions I've seen. It was awe-inspiring and odd. I looked down at my hands and thought of the power they mysteriously transferred. In essence, I was the one who took her out of action, much like I had done to Lee before he died but in a different way this time.

Starco's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Incoming Arla," he announced. "She doesn't look to happy."

"Can't imagine why. She only lost our biggest break," I responded, understanding her frustration. She may not have contributed to his capture, but she knew the gravity of the situation and the threat the City faced. However…"Perhaps he'll still be of use in death."

"Perhaps. Should I let her in?"

"I've got it," I said, pressing a button on the console that broke the seal and lowered the ramp. The hydraulics hissed quietly as the ramp descended, and Arla's angry footsteps echoed louder as she entered. Her face was flushed red with her teeth and hands visibly clenched. Wet streaks ran down from fiery eyes. In no way was this a look of disappointment, this was anger, and by the looks of it, I did not fancy the person who ticked her off. Now in the ship, she began pacing the length of the ship, going all the way to the back, avoiding the ramp's hole, stomping to the front, and then repeating the process two or three more times whilst muttering unintelligible nonsense to herself.

After stomping it out for several minutes, her temper cooled off some, but her anger remained. "I can't believe him sometimes!" she exclaimed.

"Believe who?" I asked, having a pretty good idea who, but it would serve us all better in the long run.

"Heksis!" she yelled. "He thinks that we can line every Guardian up, shoot 'em in the head, and revive them like nothing happened."

"Why in the world would he want to do that?" I was flabbergasted by the mere mention of that. Not only would that take everyone out of the field, but it'd make it look like something was going on. Someone would talk, and it'd all go downhill from there.

"He thinks that's the way to weed out fake Guardians…"

"He's not wrong," Starco interrupted, followed immediately by a death stare from Arla. "Sorry," he whispered, retracting closer to where I was.

"But he didn't consider my situation or other Guardians in a similar situation to mine. It was stupid and shortsighted, and I don't understand how someone could suggest that and still sleep at night. He didn't even consider that Yang was a civilian, not a Guardian. You're a soldier, you know why we can't do that to all of them."

"Which does make our predicament all the harder," I added.

Arla took a deep breath. Her voice relaxed, and the anger seemed to slip away to mild annoyance. "Well, what do you suggest we do?"

"I was hoping you'd have some sort of wisdom for this. You have been a Guardian much longer than I have."

Arla waved it off and took one of the seats Starco had set up behind the flanks of my own. "I really want to hear what ideas you have. You're the one with the secret contacts and bad luck"

"Secret contacts?" I asked, confused. Then, it hit me. "You mean Dea? I'd hardly call her a secret contact. A secret to you and Charli at the least, but I have had plenty of bad luck." I waited for her to say something, but it became apparent she wasn't going to speak until I had suggested something. "First things first, I think we ought to know what we're up against, and Variks may hold the key. Since nothing in this world is ever free, I have no clue what he's going to have us do in return. I'd imagine that it's not going to be pretty though."

"Sounds about right," she said, getting back on her feet. "Quick question, is the mythoclast still here?"

"In the room on the table. Starco and I were doing a little tinkering with it, maybe find something new."

"Did you?" she called from the back room.

"Well, no, not really. I did discover 4 ways that do not extend the life of a fusion rifle battery though."

"In a half hour?"

"Well, yeah. Helps when you have a Ghost to help you." I immediately regretted my words.

"Bet it does," Arla said glumly.

I still struggled to grasp that Stargazer was gone and still slipped up every now and again about reminding Arla of her death. I wasn't trying to be insensitive, but given that Arla was the only Guardian I knew without one, it made it hard to keep that sort of thing from a conversation, especially given how much use Starco was in the field. I don't want to say I pity her, but the situation did get awkward. "Sorry Arla," I quickly apologized.

"None needed," she replied, still in the back. "I'm getting more used to it." There was a metallic clang of a cabinet opening and closing. "Where back here did you put it?"

"There's a metal case on the wall. Just pull the door up," I called back. I stood up and walked into the back to watch what was about to happen.

"This one?" She pointed to a long, silver box mounted on the wall. I nodded and watched her I slide it open, and my trap spring to life. "HEEELLLOOO PRETTY LADY!" Crush yelled to her surprise. In shock, Arla fell backward into the bunk, stone-faced for a moment, but her face quickly broke into a stupid smile. "You jerk!" she laughed, pulling herself off the bed and lightly punching my arm. "Now where'd you really put it?"

I crouched down and threw my arm underneath the bunk, sweeping around until I found it and pulled the gun from underneath the bed. Banshee called it the Vex Mythoclast, golden fusion rifle that seemed to synergize human technologies with that of the Vex after the gunsmith had gotten a hold of it. It had been one she'd found in the Black Garden but that was about all I knew of its specific nature and history. Banshee said it had ties to some place called the Vault of Glass, but all I'd heard of it was a failed raid a few months back that killed six Guardians and a fireteam of three sent in to rescue any survivors. Not a place I looked forward to visiting anytime soon.

"Thanks," she said as I handed her the gun. She looked through the sights and touched the battery. "It still works right?"

"It's just the way you left it though I apologize that two of those batteries no longer work."

"Don't worry about it Max. I'll get my revenge later," she said with a wink. One prank deserves another I guess. Can't say I don't deserve it. She magnetically attached the weapon to her back and slid out of the room. Following suit, I called out to Starco, "Any sign of Heksis?" Hindsight says I should've asked Arla if he was coming rather than making the assumption, but hindsight is 20/20 and only accomplishable after the fact.

Suddenly, a voice from the left engine room. "Are you waiting for me to build one?"

"The heck?" I muttered, turning the corner to see a Guardian in blue, warlock garb and a blood red visor masking his face as usual. Heksis. While I was happy he could join us, those feelings were immediately countered by the fact he was standing in my engine room, even my ship. "Starco! How many times have I reminded you to lock the engine room?" I shouted to my ghost at the front.

"This would mark the first actually," he stated. "I've only done it because of yknow."

"Right. Well, let's keep em locked."

"On it."

I turned back to Heksis. "Welcome aboard Hek," I said with plastered, albeit convincing pleasure. "Let's try and keep our arrivals announced though, shall we?" I added.

"Whatever you say." The warlock muttered, letting out another gentle cough from his respirator in his helmet. It sounded more like allergies than anything else. Something rubbed against my leg and scurried. The form dashed into a crouched Heksis' open arms, a cat with the spots and coloration of the long-extinct cheetah. He cradled the feline like an infant, an action that looked strange more than anything else. There was a certain clumsiness and restraint he showed as he straightened himself. Arla said nothing during our brief exchange, choosing instead to move to the front of the ship and watch the hangar workers and robots below.

I approached her from behind and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder. "You good?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said with a feigned smile. "I'll live."

"Living is good," I said and then began making my way to the back once more. "Alright," I announced to the others. "Let's get moving."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Space looked unforgiving yet serene as the blues of the sky slowly gave way to black void dotted with stars.

"Alright, artificial gravity activated and orbit sustainable orbit established," Starco relayed I looked back at Arla and Heksis who were unbuckling their belts and standing up. "I'm going to make sure those screws will stay tight," I said. "Don't want us getting jettisoned out of slipspace." Arla gave a small smile. "You two behave yourselves." I unbuckled my own belts and began moving towards the back.

"I could get…" Starco began, about to get Holliday or one of her technicians on the line.

"Let them be. They've got bigger issues than a few meager screws. Besides, if I can't tighten a few screws, what good am I anyway." Starco unlocked the engine room doors while maintaining a rather high orbit around earth. Heksis stepped out of the doorway with a nod and allowed me to open the door. A sudden yet steady, drone rushed out of the door and bounced around the cockpit and adjacent areas. I quickly moved in and slid the door shut so as not to hurt either of the others' ears any longer. Now, I was suffering alone. "Helmet please," I shouted to Starco back at the front of the ship. He obliged almost immediately, and then the whirring became soft in the background.

I found the control panel almost by memory and activated the lights. I habitually scanned through the system statuses and made sure they were all warming up correctly and efficiently. A couple had elevated energy consumption, but we were taking on additional weight, not enough to upset anything, but enough to require a little extra juice. Full tank should be able to handle 20 trips to and from the Reef without any combat or fancy flying, a hyperbole of course. Regardless, fuel was not going to be an issue. These screws, however, would be if they had loosened.

These screws held the coolant and runoff pipes to and from the warp drive. If the screws fail, the increased stress of the connected tubes could cause them to snap and rupture, eventually cascading into an explosion that would kill us all. Halliday's crew had caught the screws just before they could break loose while I'd been out but asked me to make sure they were right before leaving. I'd checked once earlier but that was before everything began warming up. Satisfied, I moved down the hallway leading through the engine until I found the place I'd been at earlier for the screws.

The ceiling was about a foot overhead at this point in here, allowing me to fiddle with the screws and ensure they were right. None of them moved thankfully, so my job was done. I began making my way back when Starco interrupted my thoughts about what to ask Variks. "I intercepted a transmission." I paused, listening. "Who's it from?"

"Unknown. Trying to get a trace, but they're talking to Heksis." Part of getting the new ship, I also had a state-of-the-art signal interceptor installed, mostly to try and detect if Dea jumps onboard and relays her status to whomever she works for. Essentially, it allowed me to listen to any sort of signal, encrypted or not, without any involved party knowing it. This had been the first time it'd been triggered, and when I heard the voice, I was slightly disappointed it wasn't her. I really could use a bit of her advice.

"Odd. Patch it through."

"Be advised, the signal isn't perfect."

The first voice was distinctly human though the static with a small amount of accent blended into his English. "...gave them about a two dozen of em. One of their leaders was furious about it but they agreed to take them in." Static took over for several seconds. "-ou know what I'm about to." Static. "...it's 2 kilometers long and half a kilometer wide. Now that's a lot of…" More static. "I suggested unintelligible the other ones use but they don't understand it, so we need to teach them about it first." Static took over once more. "I say you and a group of guards go get some. Main locations were in a place in North America called...hold on boss uh...Marrreeeville in the old Oheeo state...I tried. Either way, it's the headquarters of some gardening company that made nutrient enhanced soil waaaayyyy back. I suggest you start there and get any data ya can find. They want a lot of it. As in...whole cargo hold full of unintelligible. Council wants it done soon so tick tock..."

Heksis' signal was much clearer, probably due to his proximity, and his voice was hushed as if he were trying to keep secret. "Another delivery mission? I told you Mason my ship can't handle the cargo attachment. And I'm not cleaning up my cargo bay that's where I got the shop set up." Hek replied, with his voice echoing in the hallway a bit.

"Just move it." The human said bluntly into his ear. "We haven't much time before the garbled catch on."

"I can't just move it!" Heksis whispered harshly. "That's my source of income! Guardians love robots to help them out with stuff. How the heck do you think I pay for all my projects?" He said, his tone sounding angered slightly.

"I thought those Vanguard people payed you."

"They pay me by letting me keep all the loot from the missions." Static took over again as his contact spoke. "Fine. I'll get it done by the end of the month..."

"Alright. Toodaloo." The signal cut out and Starco cut back in. "'Toodaloo?'" he remarked. "Who says that anymore?"

"Apparently him," I responded. "Were you able to get a lock?"

"Not an exact location. Seemed to be coming from Earth, but the encryption on the transmitting data was too solid to crack in that conversation. A couple more minutes, and we would've had it."

I sighed. "Well, nothing we can do now. What did you make of it?"

"Well, they called him boss for one. That's strange. As far as I could dig, Heksis doesn't have a formal fire team, so that rules that out. Employee for his shop?"

"Possibly. But why would an employee relay orders to his boss. More specifically, why would an inventor's employee be privy to that sort of info anyway?"

"As you said, apparently him. I'll keep this in my storage and my eye on Heksis. He's been hiding something from us and Arla since day one, and we can't let her get hurt like that."

"Should we tell her?" I inquired. In my opinion, she had a right to now we were suspicious of her...boyfriend.

"Not right now. She wasn't lying earlier when she said she was feeling better, but her emotions could still be a bit relative."

"I don't want to keep secrets from my teammates. It's wrong."

"You hid Dea from Arla, and then you both hid her from Charli, and now you both are hiding it from Heksis. Not to mention lots of stuff from the garden, and…"

"Ok, I get it," I interrupted. "I'm in no place to say secrets are wrong." I still hate it when he's right. "So...then what do we do?"

"We talk to Variks and act like we never heard. If something incriminating comes up, we tell her, and we go from there. Thus far though, he hasn't given us any reason to worry other than the comms interceptor may have a short or some internal damage."

"Well, if there's nothing we can do, we might as well get moving," I concluded.

"I'll see you up front."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **The Vestian Outpost**

If the Awoken were in peacetime the last time we were here, then they were prepared for all-out war this time around. The Vestian Outpost was fortified, weaponized, and every soldier on the station was armed to the teeth. Countless fighter patrols streaked through the pink and purple hues of the Reef, and four heavy fighters flanked us as we approached our designated landing pad. As we unloaded, we were disarmed and my ship searched for contraband and stowaways. We were then to be silent unless directly spoken to or the arrangement was cancelled.

We were led by a squad of armed guards to a rough tent with a single figure standing in its lit doorway. He was clearly Fallen and hunched over a staff. His helmet looked like that if a hammerhead shark and blue-white eyes pierced from the blackness behind it. Their squint was visible and intimidating even from afar. As we approached, he straightened, revealing his towering form, metal upper arms, and an armor-clad lower set.

The squad leader stopped us about a dozen feet from Variks and spoke to him for but a moment. He glowered in our direction and stared us down as he slowly stepped toward us, each echoing off the metal floor and walls until he stood directly in front of us.

"Follow," he said in a slow, raspy voice. The voice sounded like a smooth stone rubbing against a jagged one, like someone who'd smoked for decades. "We have _much_...to disss _cusss_." He turned to the guards. "Leave us."

The head guard replaced Variks' place in front of me. "Same rules apply Guardians," she warned rather harshly. "Your Variks' problem until he's done with you." Arla and I nodded whilst Heksis remained unreadable behind his visor. With that, the guards departed, leaving us semi-alone with Variks. His straightened posture slackened some as they disappeared beyond a door. "She is Cosay, security chief," he said. "She is...stern, but clever. Though, not as clever as Varikss" He turned and watched them walk away. As they reported to an important-looking official some distance away, Variks repeated, "Follow."

He led us along the long catwalks of the outpost, painted the same purple and pink glow of the Reef by the area outside the enclosure. The catwalks themselves largely clung to the metal walls, leading to the Queen's chamber at the rear of the central area, but we continued walking past it, turning the corner and proceeding into a small alcove with a heavy metal door. As Variks approached, the red light on the door flashed blue and disappeared as the door parted horizontally and opened. We moved through silently, not wanting to test their patience. Suddenly, the door hissed shut and clicked, locking with what I guessed to be very limited access whilst we were here. The room in and of itself was completely self-contained and rather dark, near pitch black until our contact flipped on some red yet extremely dim emergency lights. "My apologiess," he rasped. He punched a control panel on the metal wall, and the normal lighting flickered into life. "War forces dissscomfort." He drew in a slow breath that growled almost as much as his voice did. We stood in a line near the center of the room, while Variks slowly paced from our left to our right perpendicular to the entrance. His path became circular, engulfing us as we stood, unsure of how to react. Heksis remained inert, but his hands suggested he was on edge or nervous, I couldn't quite tell. "Curious…" he said slowly, circling behind us. "I am...intrigued they allow traitors and nuisances to speak to Variks." He chuckled. "That Prince Uldren would lose it if he knew you two were here."He turned to Heksis. "Not sure about you." There was a tense silence for a second, but then he continued. "If Cosay has the stick up her butt, the prince has the tree." A half-smile crept onto Arla's face as I glanced to my left.

The momentary lightheartedness dissolved almost as quickly as it appeared. Seriousness gripped the room and the inhabitants therein, including myself. A dark force comparable to what I felt back at the Tower when I presented my evidence of the Illusion and then had all of my activities investigated. Well, they had their evidence now, and here we are trying to figure out how to detect them in the City to essentially do damage control before too many innocents died. My secondary question was could they emulate a Guardian? If they could do it without much discrepancy between the original and the copy, they could (and probably would) infiltrate the Tower, spelling the doom of everything we'd worked for not only for the past (almost) year but those before us. To be felled by one's own blade or one's brother just became that much more real.

Suddenly, Arla's elbow burrowed itself into my side, yanking me from my thoughts. Variks was staring at me expectantly, and I felt a little shame crawling in as I realized he'd noticed I had not been listening. I defaulted. "What is the House of Illusion?" I asked, trying to sound as confident as possible despite being caught in a different state of mind.

"We are proud Eliksni, not these Fallen. But we are proud for different reasons. The Illusion share our blood, nothing else." His voice expressed more hatred than his words alone. "Long before me, there was Council of Eldersss. They...kept peace and prosperity until the Whirlwind. Their Houssse…" Variks put that in air quotes. "...was an...experiment in House Judgement. We convinced warriors in each House to become part of our Black Opsss. They fixed...problems between council members or Houses, made beliefss...disappear. The best wore black stripes on their armor...one for each kill. Most employed by House Judgement had 10-15 by the time they were killed...one way or another. Back then, they were the arms of law. Now...they are outcasts." I waited for him to say more, but he said nothing.

Instead, Arla asked, "How'd that come about?"

"Hehe...I'm glad you asked." It was almost as if he had wanted to us to ask from the very beginning. Arla folded her arms and watched him intensely as I hung on to every word, trying to glean something from it that could help us keep them from killing hundreds if not thousands in the City. Every life was worth saving, even if some of them were thieving scoundrels.

"Eliksni history is mostly legend. A captured vessel, scrubbed of its former House, but House Judgement kept some things. House Illusion is one of them. Officially, House Illusion doesn't exist, never did, but that was how the Council wanted it. A...clear House for dark work. They could hide in shadow for hourss, waiting to sstrike their target. They were elite trained for one thing, killing. Like you, Guardians, they had ways, but theirs were...better than yours. They mastered accidents, like guns for you.

"We painted them black and called them Shadows, but they were ungrateful. After years, they rebelled like House Wolves and bit the hand that feeds them. They tried to kill the Council, but they failed because their plan was...ordinary.

"Years later, with a clever leader, they captured the Council, and forced them to make Shadows a house. They agreed to survive, but many Houses instructed House Judgement to keep off records. House Judgement hid the file from others but watched House Shadows. They were smart and knew they needed to be if they were to survive. One product came through House Shadow. Something called Trace tech. No House knew what it was or how it worked. Only current House Illusion would know what it is." There was more silence as he awaited another question.

"Could this trace tech be connected with their disguises?" I asked.

"What do you mean, Guardian?" Variks asked, perplexed.

"They can take the form of another living being almost perfectly. We have people at the Tower investigating a body we captured."

"I do not know. Could be. When Council heard of Trace Tech, House Shadows changed name to House Illusion. Their arguments were...convincing after that...so maybe. This was also right after Whirlwind, so Council was...disorganized. When Whirlwind ended, wars broke out, killing many Houses and Eliksni. Illusion took remnants and trained them.

"However, House Judgement knows House Illusion's poverty caused them to sell their House to others because they had might, not money. When a much smaller Council formed, House Judgement tried to maintain control of bigger House Illusion but failed. A member of the council would disappear sometimes or change their stance on an issue. It was...suspiciousss, but no one looked into it. Lucky them.

"Then more war. A new Kell for House Illusion rose. Killed many Houses and absorbed what remained. An army of great strength to oppose all other Kells. Agents replaced Houses and joined Illusion. Norkonis was his name. Records say he was crafty and sly. A great orator with a trick up his sleeve. House Wolves, House Devils, House Kings, and others banded together in one final battle against this forsaken House. Council won, but lost much. Devil Kell, Kings Kell, and Kells of smaller Houses perished in suicide run by Illusion ships. Wolf Kell was hurt but lived. But yes...the Illusion were gone."

There was more silence. "Sounds like a different kind of war to me," Arla stated, looking to me.

"No. Same war. Different rules. We fought for Great Machine, your Traveler. House Illusion were...radical in their approach. Beyond the House at least, how they used to be."

"Don't we do the same?" I asked. "Fight for the Traveler."

Variks was quiet for a moment. "To a point. Eliksni were more devoted." He placed a fist on his chest and raised his voice as he said this, sounding quite proud of this fact despite the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, a turncoat to his species. "We aimed to please Great Machine, its servants, then the Kells. Your people are godless, selfish. They serve themselves first, care about that City than the Machine."

I wanted to counter him, but Arla tugged my arm, signaling me to keep my mouth shut before I completely spoiled it. There were bad apples in every basket. That's how society, or at least human society works. That Titan that tried to fight Arla and that fireteam that fought me in the Crucible, that tried to kill me, those were bad apples, but for every piece of coal, there was a diamond hidden in that rough. Layma, it's been a while since I've seen her, Arla, Lee, even Advira for the very brief time I knew her. One could even argue that Dea was a treasure trove of help when she decided to help out, but she said her "path was [her] own," something she'd generally kept to with some intersections with.

Another elbow ripped me out of my thoughts. Variks' was suddenly leaned over and directly in my face. I took a hurried step back out of surprise. "A distracted warrior dies quickly, yes? Eyes on Variks Guardian. House Illusion hesitates not." He moved back to where he'd been.

I nodded. "So what do we do to stop them?"

"That...is for you to decide. Vanguard Rey said to advise."

"Then what do you advise?"

Variks returned to my personal space. "I suggest you respect your Elders, or I throw you to…" he cut himself off and moved away. "Time is short, and I'm curious what your third thinks." He turned to Heksis. "You've been oddly...quiet." His voice almost sounded suspicious, but it came off more as a tease.

"How do I find them, and how do I kill them?" Heksis asked intensely.

Variks chuckled to himself. "That-that's a Guardian who acts. One problem. We know not. Technology only gets better with time. Eliksni are better than then. Guardians are better. I imagine your progress will be...slower with Suros gone." Didn't know that the news had gotten out here. "Only time knows. You need something that sees invisible. Sees light you cannot. To kill...bullets do well, but blades make it...ironic. Kill them how you see fit."

"What about these so-called Trace disguises?" I added.

"Time killed the schematics, but they are likely machines. Find a frequency and disrupt it. If that works not, you must find...alternative methods."

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Chief Cosay, flanked by two guards on each side, stepped through. "Alright Guardians, time's up. Now, it's time to settle your debts," she demanded. Cosay looked jumpy, much more nervous than the last time we'd seen her. I couldn't see her eyes behind the sleek, plated helmet she wore. Her squad was equipped with large weapons capable of taking on waves of Fallen at a time.

"Debts?" Arla and I asked in unison. "What do you mean?" I added, taking lead. Variks slowly made his way over to the guards.

I'm almost certain I could see the smirk on her face despite the helmet. "Surely you didn't think this meeting was free," she said almost tauntingly. "Prince Uldren and the Queen rarely meet with the Guardians without a price. Are you ready to pay?"

I glanced at the ground, then returned my gaze. "How much do you want?"

I could feel the mock emanating from the smirk. "We have no use for your money. Let's get moving. Time is short." Her unit turned as one and surrounded us without even looking, an impressive display might I add.

"Good luck Guardianss…" Variks added before disappearing around the corner.

A few seconds after he left, Cosay marched us out of the room and began leading us back towards the main area of the outpost where my ship was waiting patiently, just in front of where it dropped us off earlier. Abiding by the rules earlier, we each kept our mouths shut until we got to the ship. It was then that Cosay motioned us in the ship and followed us inside. She briefed us while her troops returned all that they had taken, placing the weapons in the small bunk room much to Crush's delight. Shortly after they left, I could hear him trying to flirt with one of the guns, likely Dea's yellow rifle because he'd taken a certain liking to it that made me almost uncomfortable though it was hard to hear specifics over Cosay.

"So your payment comes in your firepower. Our scanners have detected two modified Wolf Skiffs and a Ketch not far from here, and our esteemed Queen wants you to take them out. Against my wishes, she's giving you a squadron of our fighters to help you. They'll send you the coordinates when you leave the station." She signaled her troops off of the ship and pushed a finger into my chest. "If any of them die out there, I'm holding you personally responsible, Guardian." She sounded dead serious. "For the Queen," she said, turning on her heel and leaving.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hello again, it's the SFR. Just a quick reminder that this is a re-imagining of the Destiny universe. Not everything is completely canon. I try to leave a fair portion of the lore untouched, but Bungie, in my opinion didn't do the best job creating the past for their universe. I won't pretend I'm an expert on the Fallen's past or Variks' voice patterns, so I did the best with the resources I had that would still tell a (hopefully to you) compelling story. Ether (pun intended) way, thanks for the continued support. I'm excited for the next chapter and can't wait for all of you to see it. I will warn you. This is the point where things change.

Either way, a huge thank you to all of you, especially PegLegDregsNeedTheirMeds (yes I will continue to cite him when his character is present as he is not my creation), but all of you, bar none, are more than appreciated. Have a great morning/day/night.


	18. Set Up

**Chapter 17**

 **Set Up**

 **Titan Charli Hendricks**

 **45 Minutes after Vestian Outpost**

Charli simultaneously felt much better and much worse. After sleeping for the better part of a couple days, both while Maximus was out and as well as after he got up, she was finally getting some of her energy back. She'd finally hauled herself out of bed and was able to make her way to the Plaza, specifically the overlook that watched the City. Charli marveled at its beauty, but also thought of what it could have been, letting her mind wander alongside the wind. Since getting here and becoming acquainted to her new surroundings, she brushed up on some of the history. She wished she could have seen the City in its heyday.

Sure it was still extremely successful, but over the last year it'd been marred and scarred almost irreparably. She read the reports and saw some footage from the battle that crumbled a section of the Wall, saw Maximus lead a final push that pushed those putrid Fallen back into the Stone Age. To her, death was a luxury for them, considering how many Guardians they'd killed, how many they'd killed since then, and how many of her friends they had killed before and after she perished. She found it unacceptable that they continued to exist, but there wasn't much she could do to change that because they were so scattered, a fact that continued to frustrate her since she awoke in the medical area. Since then and over that week while they were "suspended," she'd created numerous plans to squeeze the Fallen into submission and kill them off once and for all. Most of her plans though were, admittedly, far-fetched and near impossible. Several involved her nuking them off the face of the galaxy, but the closest those got to reality was by playing them out in her imagination. It was gratifying though. Watching their stupid forms try to run from an all-encompassing blast.

Now Charli was faced with a new reality, one in which her new home was being infested and destroyed by these insects, and there was very little she could do about it because she couldn't see them, and you can't kill what you can't see unless you get lucky. Thus far, she didn't necessarily consider herself lucky,

Charli read over her notes over what Maximus had said several times over, and she'd made several conclusions, the foremost was that they were powerless to stop them without a way to "see the invisible" and see past their disguises. They had the invisible part of the equation at two of the foundries, but Charli was skeptical of whether or not they had been infiltrated by the Illusion just as Suros had. There was no telling who was real and who was fake without the technology, and she was certain that the Vanguard wouldn't let her access it at least in her current, exhausted state. She couldn't shake the feeling that they didn't trust her, that they had sneaking suspicions about her. Charli tried to internally figure out the source but failed to come up with anything. Perhaps that's how it was for all of the Guardians…

...or perhaps the ones they put around Maximus. He kept secrets from them, and she doubted that he had told her all of them when he confessed about Dea.

Arla was equally guilty. Her backstory seemed to differ from person to person whenever she tried to get a feel for them from other Guardians around the Tower, and while she could've blindly accepted that people forget things about other people, these tales were completely different, which raised her suspicions. Charli couldn't fathom the things in her mind as she'd been a Guardian far longer than Maximus.

Given what she's seen of them in the field and the kindness they'd shown to her, Charli trusted them for the most part. She'd get the truth out of them eventually. Her question was why the Vanguard seemed distant, almost unsupportive of any action against an enemy that could topple everything they know, drag everyone in the City into a war they'd been fighting for decades, perhaps centuries. Their hesitation was most definitely not a PR problem. If it was, then those three do not deserve to hold their positions. The side that hesitates first usually ends up dead. Charli had died once, experienced its fear and unforgiving grip and wanted no more of it. The Vanguard were worried about something else.

Suddenly, a strong hand yanked the collar of her armor. Startled she spun around ready to punch but stopped herself when she saw Zavala keeping her from going over the railing. "A dangerous place to take a nap wouldn't you agree Miss Hendricks?"

"Uh, uh, uh yes sir," she stammered, still in surprise. "It won't happen again."

Zavala let go and crossed his arms on the railing. "You needn't worry. This isn't the MFN. It's a little more relaxed here despite what you've seen. All we ask of that you get along with the others and do what we ask of you. Otherwise, you're just fine. Of course, we also not recommend falling asleep on the railings."

Charli looked over the railing at the seemingly bottomless pit between the Tower and the City and shuddered. "Of course," she replied, turning her attention back to the Titan Vanguard. "So what do you need? Shouldn't you be working on something with the other two?"

Zavala took a deep breath and rubbed his bald head. "I should be, but I needed some fresh air. We've been debating this whole ordeal with the Illusion. What's your take? You've seen them in action."

Charli shook her head. "I wouldn't quite say in action. I've only gotten there after the fact. Two times."

"What about Suros?" he inquired, looking in the direction the foundry had once been.

"I don't count that," she says sternly. "I was a puppet doing what the master said. I'd hardly call that knowing how they work, especially since we can't tell who is and who isn't part of them.

"But it could be a hint." Zavala looked at her, seemingly studying her reaction. "Speaking of, have the others spoken to Variks yet?"

"Nothing yet," she lied. "There was an issue with a pipe on the engine, so they were delayed a little bit." Zavala nodded slowly in response. "I'm sure we'll hear from them soon. Then, we'll know what we're up against."

The Titan Vanguard pushed off of the railing. "Indeed we will. Indeed we will. Rest well Miss Hendricks. Heaven knows we're gonna need it these next few days." With that, Zavala turned on his heel and retreated back into the stairs at the center of the plaza. Charli waited for his head to disappear before turning back to the City.

Late afternoon was falling, and the air traffic began to clog the skies in the distance. Far below, gray walkways crawled with insect-sized people, scurrying from work to whatever destination. She watched them for several more minutes, wondering what was going through their minds, what they did for a living, possibly even what family members they had.

As she theorized, she couldn't help but reflect on the one she left behind years ago. Her mother had never been there as far as she knew, but her father never left her side. A short man with a big personality, yet a life equal to his stature. He'd been an engineer for as long as she could remember, mainly being in charge of developing and building weapons for the Martian Federation Military. Until that one day that defined everything…when the Fallen came

"Hey Charli," Vern interrupted. "I don't mean to interrupt your thoughts, but the postmaster just notified me you have a package."

"Odd," she thought aloud.

"I wouldn't think anything of it. Could be a love note."

"Shut up," Charli said jokingly, gently knocking the Ghost to the side. "I barely know anybody."

"That's why you gotta get out more. Not stay cooped up in the Tower when you're not afield." Charli turned around and started walking towards the robot at the post station.

"Or suspended," she added.

"No one really needs to know about that. That was not your fault."

"True." She quietly approached the robot at the counter. Most of it was sharp edges on a body frame, far too clunky for an Exo but more advanced than a simple program. "Good afternoon Guardian," it said in a mechanical, female voice. "How can I help you today?"

Charli shifted her footing and looked beyond at the sparsely decorated wall behind it. "My Ghost said I had a package."

"Authenticating. Scan complete. Titan Charli Hendricks has one package from...unknown. Your package has been delivered to your Ghost."

"Thanks," Charli said with a nod, turning back to the City. It said something after that, but Charli disregarded it. Her mind was on who could've sent the package. She'd met plenty of people these last couple weeks, but never really got on with any of them, just passing acquaintances. There were a couple she knew a little better and recognized them in passing, but she had no stable friendships aside from Maximus and Arla. That's what made this package so odd to her.

She returned to her spot on the fence and continued watching the City grow a bright reddish-orange that made it seem almost angry. A few silent minutes passed as she absorbed herself in thought. She silently wondered what errand the Awoken needed the others to do and hoped that it wouldn't get them in too much trouble. She also cursed herself for trying too hard in that simulation. She didn't remember feeling that tired, but just after she put up that shield, she felt a surge of power that dragged her down as it waned. She ultimately decided that she'd do it again and see if it happens.

Vern suddenly piped up, startling Charli and nearly sending her over the railing. "Hey Charli," he had said before she had to catch herself on the railing.

Still catching her breath from the surprise and calming her rapid heartbeat, she said, "Don't scare me like that. That could've been bad."

"Sorry," he said rather unapologetically. "Thought I should tell you I can't detect what's in the package. It's just a black box as far as I'm concerned."

"You think we're making a mountain out of a molehill?"

"Probably. We should head back to the room, open it, then get some rest."

Charli could imagine falling asleep again but this time in her bed, not on a railing. "Can't argue with that," she responded, sending one last look at the City draped in a blanket of ever-deepening orange. Very possibly, a City of the dead.

Back in her room, Vern materialized the box on her bed. As he had said, it was completely black, but it was a shiny black sheen that reflected some of the lights overhead. The box was made of a sturdy plastic with no discernible top or bottom, just a smooth surface. It was longer than it was wide by a very slight amount, giving a cubical impression when in fact its reality was different. Charli lifted it to see if there was a perforated edge or something on it but found it near impossible to pick up. With a vast amount of difficulty, she lifted it a few inches above the crumpled bed sheets with a grunt. Just as she lifted it, her grip failed and it fell back onto her bed much lighter than she would've expected for such a heavy box. "The heck is in this thing?" she thought aloud. She pressed her ear to its surface and heard nothing. It was too heavy to shake, and it was too ridiculous to smell. Charli had to find some way to open it otherwise her curiosity was going to kill her. No way it was a box she wasn't meant to open.

"Let me try something," Vern requested, floating to the box and hovering over it.

"Be my guest." Charli took a step back. Vern's shell spread out a bit as he backed a little further from the box, emitting a cone of blue, gridded light onto its surface. Every few seconds the front or back of the shell would rotate, shifting the light. Suddenly, the grid seemed to spread onto the box itself, cyan light beginning to peek out until it enveloped the box and disappeared. "No way," Charli gasped in disbelief.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

 **90 minutes after the Vestian Outpost**

"Another direct hit!" Starco announced as the ship lurched to the right and began to push against the stabilizers. "Shields at fifty-eight percent. A couple more hits like that, and we're toast."

"I know!" I shouted back to my Ghost, swerving beneath more fire from one of the Skiffs. So far, the battle hadn't been going too terribly, but it was certainly proving difficult. I'd never taken the Fallen for aces, but the way they had been maneuvering their ships was quite impressive, at least for someone who hadn't really participated in a space fight like this before. For the most part, I was flying, but Starco still kept his wary eye on my movements to make sure I didn't do anything too risky or stupid. However, Cosay shortchanged the Fallen's forces as well as how ready they would be. As soon as they picked us up on their scanners, all three Skiffs, not just two opened a volley of fire that seemed more like a warning than anything, the projectiles sliding past each ship much to our surprise, but that didn't last long. The squadron remained its full six, but each one had to duck out at one point or another to let their shields recharge a serviceable amount.

These Skiffs were different from the ones we'd seen traversing the surface of various places. These still had the basic form: bulbous front, engines just behind it, and a thin tail, but these had much thicker armor and a challenging overshield that seemed nearly impenetrable, comparable to that of the technology of, say, the Awoken. Guns manned by, likely, Dregs and Vandals lined the surfaces as we engaged from various angles though there were far less of them on the bottoms of the ships. The main concentration of fire came from the swivel turrets of varying strengths that lined the tail. Severing it from the ship would all but eliminate the heaviest part of the flak, but again, we'd have to punch through the shields first.

The Awoken's ships were sleek and fast, y-shaped prongs surrounding a cockpit and nose, nothing but speeding darts to the untrained eye, but they lacked a heavy amount of armor. From what I gathered, these were new pilots, or at least ones without much experience. I could tell because one let her shields go all the way to zero and nearly died because of it. From then on, twenty percent was the bare minimum. Anything below was too risky, especially against this kind of firepower. This had been a game of chess where neither side had taken a huge amount of risks yet, waiting for the other to fall for their trap.

I looked back at Arla and Heksis, both looking at consoles that connected their seats to the omni-directional destroyer cannons (ODDs). The lasers weren't the most powerful of weapons, and it certainly showed against the robust shielding the Fallen had, but they were proving effective at centralized damage to a gun on their ship or something that was relatively uncovered. At first, I'd been balancing shooting with the main cannon and given them open looks, but since the cannon needed time to recharge, I'd been attempting to strafe or fly by in order to give them the best shot possible. That was where I'd taken the majority of my flak. "How are you both holding up?"

Arla and I had both put on our helmets in case of an unlucky breach as well as the assists our suit would give us to targeting. Heksis always had his, a fact that bothered me still. Heksis growled in response and squeezed the trigger next to his seat to fire off a few more shots. "A little jostled, but fine," Arla replied for both of them. "You think you could keep the sharp cuts to a minimum?"

"I can try, but I'm trying to keep us alive too." I spotted something out of the corner of my eye and immediately slammed the thrust into reverse, throwing us all against our restraints as the ship slowed down just barely enough for one of the Awoken ship's missiles to go screaming past us and bury itself into a skiff's gun. "Awoken ships! Check your targets!" I shouted into the comms. There was no response, but I was sure they got the message. My eyes turned to the Ketch sitting behind its trio of guards. It hadn't fired or moved since we got here which meant that it had to be coordinating everything and had at least one trick up its sleeve.

I dodged several pieces of debris and lined the pair behind me for another shot between two of the skiffs. Once they got in range, they opened up, peppering each with laser fire that left redhot scorch on the shield-blanketed metal with nothing more than a black mark beneath it. The marks were steadily getting darker, a good sign against their shielding, but not good enough. I checked the main cannon's status on the screen: 68%, still recharging, but it was coming back fast.

The ship shook and lurched to the right once more, yet another direct hit that knocked the shields down below fifty. "Max!" Arla called out.

"I'm working on it," I sounded back. I pulled the stick back and threw the thrusters forward. Just as I engaged the thrusters, the cockpit went red and an alarm bleeped only for a second before the lock was broken, a flicker really that prompted another "Max!" out of Arla, this one a little harsher, and a stern look from Heksis. I rolled away from more fire and yanked back on the stick until I had flipped over. Once more, I threw the thrusters into maximum and narrowly missed more incoming fire. This rinse and repeat was starting to get on my nerves; something had to change if we were going to destroy this ships without losing any of the Awoken's. I had an idea, but it was radical, and I wasn't too sure how he'd like it. That would have to become phase 1, and phase 2 would have to happen when the main cannon was ready. I decided to ask, continuing to dodge fire. "Heksis, you up for a space walk?"

"Wait what?" the two said in unison.

"Look, we need to tip the scales in our favor." Another volley of fire slammed into my shielding. One of the engines shuddered for a moment but quickly returned. "And obviously, I'm not Charli. Heksis, are you up for something crazy or not?"

Silence pervaded long enough for more fire to go streaking in front of the ship. "Explain it to me first." he asked, sending off a few more shots from his ODD.

I pulled the ship left and made another pass between the Skiffs who were beginning to reposition themselves farther from the Ketch. "We're going to make a close flyby, and you're going to jump on and commandeer one of the Skiffs. I'll let you know what else you need to do after that. Hopefully by then, we'll have the situation a little under control." That was the barebones of phase 1, or at least his half. We would still need a way to punch through the shields, but distracting the crew on one of the Skiffs would help us that much more. The House of Wolves wouldn't dare man an entire ship to its capacity when it has to fight the Awoken in more ways than one. The Ketch would be different, but I'd be willing to bet money that these Skiffs had skeleton crews or close to it.

"Alright," Heksis said after a few seconds of contemplation and shooting. "Count me in." I honestly thought I was going to have to convince him.

"Good because we're about to get this party started. Starco, secure all doors and loose items, prepare to go vacuum." I dodged some more fire and began to make my way to the Skiff furthest to the right of the skiff (relative to me). Starco highlighted the place Heksis would have to jump to hit the hatch Starco found was the stealthiest way in. "Syncing a schematic to your HUD, Heksis. Starco will tell you when to jump. Just get to the hatch, open it, and do your thing. We'll be watching over you from here." Doors behind me locked, and I could feel a magnetic pull holding my feet to the floor. "Everything's set," Starco announced. "Going vacuum." The ramp dropped behind me. I could feel myself being yanked backward, the rushing air attempting to take me with it, but thankfully my restraints held until it all stopped, and the unsealed parts of the ship were near total vacuum. "Alright Heksis, we're getting close," I said through the comms. I glanced behind me to see him get up and begin making his way to the edge of the ramp, unsteady in the zero g, but he looked confident if nothing else. Something I had to applaud him for when facing this much uncertainty. We were approaching at a brisk pace at its stern, and the mark on my HUD was quickly coming up, situated just past the engines. I tossed a glance back again. Arla had set aside her targeting device and was watching with bated breath as the leap neared. I inverted the ship, and Starco came back over the radio. "Jumping in three...two...one…" Heksis hesitated for a fraction of a second before pushing off and colliding with the body of the Skiff a short time later.

"Do we have a feed from him?" I asked.

"I'm monitoring him until he gets inside," Starco answered. "He's a little shaken from the impact, but otherwise he's making good progress…..Alright, he sees the hatch." I swerved from more fire and struggled to keep the ship close enough to maintain a stable connection. "What the…? Keep me at a good distance, almost lost the connection."

"What happened? You got it back?"

"...aaaaaaaaand, he's in. He's in. Connection severed. Let's pull away." Music to my ears because just then, the lock alarm sounded again and was swiftly followed by a large bolt from another Skiff, one I narrowly missed. Now to handle the situation a little more. I connected to the open comms we shared with the fighters. "All fighters, do NOT shoot this vessel. We have a Guardian aboard dealing with all hostiles." There was no confirmation, but that was the least of my worries. If they hadn't heard it, I doubted they would get through the shields. I checked the main cannon's status. "READY" lettered in boldface decorated the word cannon at the bottom left of my ship's HUD. Still avoiding heavy fire from the three ships, I switched the main cannon from energy to EMP. I only had six shots, three for each of the remaining ships. I could only hope three was enough because two definitely wouldn't do it, and the engines wouldn't be able to draw up enough power to charge the cells in time, unless the fight lasted another forty five minutes that is. I announced my intentions to the fighters. "All pilots, form up on me and prepare to make strafing. Use heavy weapons but wait for the EMPs to take effect. Odd callsigns take the first Skiff. Evens take the second." Wordlessly, the fighters flanked my left and right in an arrow pattern. Starco confirmed their readiness, and we started our runs on the Skiffs.

The first was approaching fast, and Starco designated three areas for maximum effect: the tip of the tail, the engines, and the red area of the bow. Going head on with a Skiff wasn't the smartest of tactics, but it would have to do. I fired the first directly into the red "mouth" of the Skiff and dipped below the ship, the odd callsigns on my right breaking off and beginning to engage it. I then threw the engines into reverse and angled myself upward to deposit a shot right in the center of its engines as I completed the loop and accelerated hard toward the tip of the tail, disabling the guns there with the final blast for that ship. As I sped away, the energy signature on the ship went practically nonexistent, the steering losing all power, and the ship began to drift with a slight roll. Explosions ripped across its hull as its space defenses collapsed, and the backup surface-based defenses couldn't withstand any of the incoming fire before a large explosion in the engines chained smaller ones across the length of the ship, tearing it to pieces. Meanwhile, the other Skiff had gone just as swimmingly, the second wing of fighters going to work on it while the first was working on joining them. Then, an explosion similar to the first ripped the Skiff to pieces and sent its pieces flying in all directions. I pulled the ship out of range of the Ketch, put the ship in standby, and leaned back in my seat, tossing my helmet to the side. There was a second _thud_ behind me as Arla did the same. "Nice flying." she said out of breath, taking a knee beside my seat and sending an approving look my direction.

"Nice shooting. I think you dented their shields," I joked.

"Shut up," she laughed, playfully punching my shoulder. "You just need better guns."

"Actually, I'm quite proud of my main cannon. Aside from having to charge forever, it made quick work of those Skiffs." I looked away from Arla's sweat-drenched face and hair to the remaining Fallen ships. "Anyway, it ain't over yet. Still gotta take out that Ketch down there." I pointed to the heavily armed Fallen ship far in the distance, its hulking frame looming over everything else.

"So you're going to have Heksis crash the ship?" she asked.

"It'll be effective, but I prefer calling it a tactical ram."

She chuckled. "That's for sure," she added.

I brought up a general map of the battle, the destroyed ships grayed out with white X's over them. I hit the tactical map button and moved the ships around to my leisure. "I was going to have Heksis take the ship and reposition it...here." I moved his ship to the broadside of the Ketch, a straight shot to the engines from his spot. "Then begin firing all the guns remotely and ram the ship. We'll have to draw fire from the Ketch, but our main priority between now and then is getting those engines offline. Last thing we want is for the ship to move out of the way at any point, especially if Heksis is too close to adjust his angle."

"You sure ramming it will kill it?"

"If nothing else, the shields will collapse, and it won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Then it won't be able to defend itself from a final assault."

"What about Heksis?"

"He's going to take an escape pod out of there, and his Ghost will send his position to Starco. Then, we'll pick him up. Plain and simple."

"Sounds good." She opened a comms channel with Heksis. "Hey Hek, what's your status?" There was some static in response at first, so Arla replied, "Say again?"

"I'm...confused," Heksis said, much clearer this time. "There's nobody else here except me."

"Have you made it to the bridge yet?" I asked.

"The doors literally opened for me. Nobody is onboard." There was silence for a second. "I'm going to the brig. That's the best place they could hide.

"Affirmative. Proceed with caution." The link remained open, but it was muted on Heksis' end. I understood the move, but I didn't like it. If they were hiding, he needed to be quiet. Strange that the Wolves would run and hide. "Arla, is it strange for the Wolves to run and hide?"

Her eyes were squinted and her thoughts elsewhere. "Very. They don't run from a fight. They can be stealthy, but not like this."

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yes, but it could also be a trap. I can't see why they'd want to control the Reef or the Wolves."

"Agreed."

No sooner had I said that when Starco piped up. "Maximus, I'm detecting another ship nearby. It's Awoken." His voice sounded surprised at the end of that.

"Are they reinforcements?" I asked.

"I doubt it. It's just sitting there...wait a minute. Let me see something. Tell Heksis he'll have to hack into the ship's controls to commandeer it. The Ketch is controlling it remotely."

"Didn't think that was possible," I said. "Heksis, we're reading an Awoken ship nearby. We're investigating. In the meantime, we need you to hack into the ship's systems on the bridge. We believe the Ketch is controlling it remotely."

The channel unmuted long enough for him to say, "Roger," before it went back to its silent state. Suddenly, it sprang right back to life. "Maximus! Arlah! I...I...I found the crew!" His voice sounded angered and panicked.

Thank goodness. This might actually work. "Have they been dealt with?"

"Th-they're dead, but I didn't kill them." His voice lost the panic but gained a certain ferocity to it. "This has the Awoken written all over it. Has to be. Handcuffed and shot like animals. I think we've been set up."

"Uh, Maximus." Starco interrupted, alarmed. "The Awoken ship just went weapons red. They say, finish the mission." Arla took over the conversation. "Heksis there's no time. There's an Awoken ship that's threatening to gun us down if we don't finish this."

Starco spoke up again. "Multiple fighter locks, holding back the siren. If we hesitate much longer, we may not…"

"I know!" Arla shouted and then turned back to the front view. "Heksis, there's no time. We're all dead if you don't get up there and finish this." The channel abruptly cut off to all of our frustrations. We couldn't afford for this to happen right now.

The cockpit fell deathly quiet as we helplessly watched the sole remaining Skiff sit lifelessly in place, unmoving. We could only hope that Heksis was hacking in, but we had no way of being sure. Worry plastered itself on Arla's face, and I couldn't tell if it was because of looming death or Heksis' inaction. I thought I saw a singular tear gather in her eye but it could have also been sweat. I didn't understand his hesitation. They're Fallen, traitorous ones from what little I know about the Wolves, and for someone with such a ruthless reputation, this was an oddly conservative course of action. Whatever he's thinking better not tick off the Awoken because we could not fight a war with everybody in the solar system. Finally, I said, "Hail the ship."

"Which one?" Starco asked, surprised by the sudden decision.

"The Awoken ship. We need to get them to turn off their weapons. Ask why in the world they're here."

Arla joined in. "Maximus, you can't seriously think they're going to do that."

"I know," I responded, shrugging that off. "But we need to buy Heksis time. Whatever he's planning, the Awoken don't want to wait around for." Arla crossed her arms and silently tapped her foot, looking at something other than space for the first time in several minutes

"Y'know…" a new voice said. My gaze shot over to a new box on the glass, one of a gold-eyed Awoken with jet black hair and a perpetual look of disgust on his face. A wry smirk accompanied this look as his chilling voice filled the ship. "...if I knew you were going to finish the mission halfway, we wouldn't have helped you." He shrugged his arms.

"What do you want Uldren?" Arla ordered through gritted teeth.

"Oh no no, _traitor_ , you have weight no here. You and your robot friend have quite the debt to us, so how about paying in full before we discuss anything further."

"We're Guardians, not executioners. This isn't our war."

"Rhyn'iks," he stated.

"What?" I asked, confused by the suddenness.

"Rhyn'iks," he repeated. That name rung a bell, one of my first kills spread from the Reef. I distinctly remember the team I sent after her reporting a new Guardian struck her down and used unnecessary violent maneuvers to finish her, like an executioner, those three words boldfaced in the report. _Like. An. Executioner._ " There was a stern silence as Arla threw daggers at him with her eyes. "Rather dark for someone serving the light," he mused. "And I scarcely believe that was the last time. I'm sure if I had my people do some more digging, we'd find more dirty laundry in your closet." That disgusting smirk returned to his face. "Rhyn'iks, a Gatekeeper, the Black Garden, countless Fallen, Vex, Hive, and Cabal. And Arla, haha, your rap sheet's even worse. Face it, you're no more Guardians than I am a saint."

"Even angels have shadows," I retorted.

"Only the corrupt ones. Now, finish the mission and make your shadows that much darker, or allow me the honor of making a traitor and a pile of scrap nothing more than a part of this debris field." There was a stunned silence for several seconds before he momentarily disappeared from the box and returned with that trademark look. "A wise choice," he said with a curt nod, closing the channel." My eyes immediately turned to the Skiff, but it wasn't there, far from it in fact. All I saw was the engines angry glow as it shot towards the Ketch in the distance. "Maximus," Starco called out. "The fighters are returning to Uldren's ship, and all locks have been broken."

"Get Heksis on the line." I re-engaged the engines and started making my way to the Ketch, powering up the main cannon. We had to take out the engines if we were going to get the Skiff anywhere close. The good thing about Ketches was that their massive engines weren't shielded as heavily as the main part of the ship, so if we could disable the shields and get a shot into the main fuel line. That would likely disable the ship further than just...wait a minute.

The ship hadn't even reacted. Both of us were well into their weapons range, but no one had begun firing as of yet. Starco still hadn't been able to raise Heksis on the comms, said they were being jammed. Setting the ship on a straight course and decreasing the throttle a little, I grabbed Heksis' ODD targeting pad and let Starco take over the controls. I panned the gun back towards the Awoken ship, and, just as I had expected, it had moved up a significant amount, on overwatch in case we decided to bolt. "I've got Heksis on the line. Audio only due to the interference." A small black box with a white line through it appeared in the top right of the ship's HUD. As Heksis spoke, the line dashed up and down in triangular shapes, nestling back at the resting line when he finished. Though, the conversation was rather short. "I hope you know what you're doing," he warned as soon as the link was stable enough to connect us.

"I'm preventing a war Heksis."

"And escalating another," he asserted. A true statement. The Wolves almost certainly knew of the war atrocities the Awoken were committing or, at least, the ones Prince Uldren sponsored. If there was one thing I'd picked up on him, it's that he liked to make examples out of people, especially those who stepped out of line, and he almost always did that personally, our...interactions being a prime example. He just didn't like getting shown up, again our...interactions being prime examples. "If the Wolves catch wind that _we_ did this, they'll declare war on _us_." I thought back to the Rhyn'iks example Uldren gave, thought back to what I felt in that moment: rage, wonder, a thirst to kill...things from my military days when we needed to make a point, especially the first.

"We might as well already be at war with them. The Fallen aren't necessarily on our side."

There was silence for a moment followed by some metal clanging. "I'm in the escape pod," He relayed. "Both of you better catch me."

"We're on our way," Arla jumped in. I zoomed part of the HUD in on the Skiff. It was extremely close to the still-silent Ketch, only a few thousand meters before a high-speed impact would cripple and destroy both of them. However, I never saw any blast from it that would indicate an escape pod launched. "Escape pod away," Heksis announced. The two ships collided in a brilliant display of debris and explosions as each collapsed and released the gases inside. As expected, the Skiff was the first to destruct completely, its bow buried deep within the Ketch. The explosions opened up more of the Ketch's inside and ignited it, debris spewing out as it too exploded into large chunks of burned out husk and piercing shards.

I looked to the scanner to see if it was picking up Heksis' pod. Nothing useful. The screen was bombarded with dots of varying size crowding around us as we approached the former ships.

Suddenly, a solid thud echoed throughout the silent cockpit. "The heck was that?" Arla thought aloud.

"Probably just deris," I responded, curious myself. Wouldn't surprise me because of all the screws, shards, and other pieces floating around in the wake of the explosions, not to mention what all was floating already in the Reef. I was more surprised we hadn't noticed it before, but that was when the ship went dark, illuminated only by the ghostly glow of the Reef. "Starco?" I asked

"I'm not reading any major damage," he reported. "There's some sort of blockage in a fuel line it seems. Pressure backed up enough to cause the system to automatically shut down. It's an external access panel."

"I'll take a look," I volunteered. I glanced at my pulse rifle, thinking of take it with me, but decided against it. Instead, I grabbed my helmet and slipped it over my head, blinking into the void around my ship and grabbing hold of the ladder on the side. The chill of near absolute zero seeped through my armor. While I didn't need as much air, I was especially sensitive to temperature, and the suit's atmosphere regulation would last only so long at temperatures this low. "Anyone else notice how fast we're moving?" I asked over the radio, noticing how quickly the destroyed ships were shrinking. The space ahead of us was empty, save for a few asteroids, and the joystick would do nothing while everything was shut off. I was mostly concerned Heksis thought we were ditching him though. Hopefully he'd notice the lack of light from the engines but who knows.

"You thought we stopped?" Arla asked, amused.

"For a moment." I pulled myself up the ladder and activated the magnetic grips on my boots. "Where's this panel?"

"It's near the rear thrusters," Starco replied.

"On it." Trying to avoid getting knocked off by a stray piece of debris, I stayed low as I slid my way towards the center of the stern. After narrowly missing a brush with a stray piece of rock, I found a square panel. It had a circular lock with a handle stretched across its diameter. I grabbed it, pulling up and twisting clockwise. The panel hissed and opened about an inch to the right. Adding to those in my feet, I activated the magnetic grip in my left glove and planted it on the ship. Using it and my legs for leverage, I slid the panel open with my right. The innards now exposed, I shined a light on the black tubing that occupied this panel. Uniform and about two inches thick, these were the lifelines of the ship, fuel lines, and this was the only parts of them that could be exposed to space, mainly for maintenance in places not space, but circumstances change. Most likely, fuel had frozen in them and backed up the rest of the line, the pressure then causing a system wide shutdown. "Alright," I announced. "I'm here."

"You'll have to massage each one, break up any pieces,' Starco directed. "We'll probably feel the chunks getting burned, but we'll stop helplessly careening towards certain doom."

"On it." I pinched the first cable and met an unresponsive push back, unmoving like metal. I pinched harder until it finally gave way and continued up and down the first line, feeling the crunch of each break until everything was smooth up and down the tube. Suddenly, the ship burst to life, nearly throwing me off the back at first and the the front as Starco slammed the brakes. "Sorry about that," he apologized, but his tone then turned into a warning. "May want to pull back the thrusters before it restarts in the future."

I sighed, choosing to hold my tongue about how that wasn't supposed to happen, saying instead, "Is that it then?"

"If you want, I'd check the other two in my professional opinion, but we have at least enough power to get us turned around and headed home."

"Any luck with Heksis?"

"Nothing but static," Arla jumped in. "Crap…"

"What?"

"I forgot Heksis brought his cat," she replied, slightly exasperated.

I laughed silently at the randomness of the comment in addition to the thought of how it felt after all that fancy flying. It's probably stumbling around and bumping into things. Stifling the urge to laugh, I asked, "That's a problem because…?"

"I'm allergic...but I'll live. Just won't be taking off the helmet for now. Anyway, you almost done?" I stared down at the third cable, the second having been barely frozen at all to my surprise. This one was close to as bad as the first but gave significantly less resistance.

"Close enough but not quite. These things are like rocks. Starco, makes sure you redirect some heat to this part of the ship to keep these from refreezing." Finally, the third line was finished, and I locked the panel back in place, making sure it was sealed so that they wouldn't refreeze, the initial state probably resulting from us being stationary for so long earlier. "Hey Max…" Arla's voice sounded concerned. "...Did you just stomp near the cockpit?"

"No," I replied curious and suspicious. "Still at the back. Probably another piece of debris, but I'll go make sure." Staying flat against the ship, I pushed and pulled on ledges, clawing for grip as I floated towards the front. I crested over the center of the ship, and saw what had hit us: a blocky shank that had a piece of itself dug into the armor or hooked on something. A few sparks shot out from my right as another shank smacked into the right engine, sticking to it like the one in front of me. "I've got a pair of shanks out here," I relayed. "They seem to be snagged on something. Strange they got so far out here."

Arla seemed equally confused but had one more theory than I did. "Probably got sucked out in the blast and tried to attack our ship when we floated by."

"They're probably just as frozen as the fuel lines were," Starco added.

"I'll pry them off then," I decided. The suit still had a while before the atmosphere regulation would need a break.

"Roger," Arla affirmed.

I pushed toward the front and stood up a few feet from the crashed sank. A few orange sparks flicked out of its frame as I approached. For the most part, it had landed right-side up, either the frame was slightly bent or it had landed with just the slightest amount of angle not to be completely straight. Just as I got within a few feet, something jetted out from its side, a gun. Sizzling bolts of energy narrowly whizzed by my head as I leaned out of the way just in time. I reached for my rifle instinctively and grabbed nothing but void, taking a pair of hits while I struggled to realize I'd left my weapon inside. Crap! "Starco! Gun now!" Without question, the yellow rifle flashed into my hands, just in time for my shields to collapse and send a sharp ripple of pain to symbolize it. Wasting no time, I unloaded two volleys of three into its frame and kicked it as hard as I could, sending the now-dead shank spinning into the endless expanse.

I had nearly holstered my weapon when I remembered the second. I turned around with the gun at the ready. Not only had that shank started digging in, three more dotted the bright green paint, and their weapons were swiveled in my direction. I dove under a pair of shots, dispatching two of them and grabbing cover by the raised portion of the ship's center. I tossed away the spent magazine, loaded another, and quickly dispatched the other two. I looked back out towards the front and noticed two things: we'd drifted back to the twisted scraps of the ships, and there were swarms of those shanks _everywhere_. Dozens swirled amongst the wreckage above my head, but oddly none to my left and right, sae for those far in the distance

"Arla!" I called out. "Get on your ODD! These shanks are active! Repeat, the shanks are active and are trying to compromise the ship. Focus fire above and below."

"They're shanks though. No stress needed. They're no closer to breaching the ship than we are to being executioners." It almost sounded like a laugh, especially the part where she mocked Uldren.

"Two of them have partially drilled into the ship already, and I'm praying they didn't do any lasting damage."

"Alright, ODD active." After a moment, she asked, "Aren't you going to come in?"

With a thought, Starco flashed Crush into my arms, and I quickly slammed a casket of ammunition into it. "Someone's gotta get rid of the ones that smash into the ship." I pulled the lever on the gun, slamming the first bullet into the chamber.

"Maximus that's crazy! You'll get cut to ribbons! More importantly, I can't revive you if they get you."

I knew that, a risk I had factored into my decision. Was this really what I wanted to die for? No, but someone had to stay out here from what I figured, and if Arla died, that was it for her. Starco would fly the ship as well as shoot the other ODD, Arla would shoot, and then I'd be holding down the fort up top. I shook my head and looked back up at the hordes of shanks weaving between the wreckage, edging closer by the second. "It's not ideal, no, but we need to find Heksis. These things are cluttering up the radar too much for Starco to get a read, so I'm eyeballing this."

"While fighting off hordes of Shanks?"

"Never said it was gonna be easy. If things go south and I get killed out here, I want you to get out of here Starco, with or without Heksis. Head straight for Earth."

"Maximus, that's stupid! We can EMP these fools into next week and book it. How long before it's charged?"

Starco was quiet for a moment, running numbers. "If we're going to make a dent in their forces, a half hour at the least. There's been a break in the main line about where you knocked off that Shank, and the charge isn't as strong in the peripheral circuits, so we're looking at a longer charge time." Exactly what I wasn't hoping for. Great…

Looking at the swarm, I said, "I definitely don't think we have a half hour. Can I get the engineer ladder up?" A ladder of separated rungs appeared on the central portion of the ship. Working my left arm into the rungs, I grew an orb of energy in my right hand whilst Crush floated just off to the side. "You guys ready?"

Arla sucked in a deep breath. "If we get through this, I'm going to kill you."

"What about your 'code of honor'?" I teased.

"Wouldn't be a violation. You made an error that nearly killed us all. Doesn't bother me to kill a reckless teammate at that point."

"We'll deal with that later." I looked at the gathering purple energy in my hand, feeling it surge through my being. "Nova Bomb away in 3...2...1…" I heaved a massive ball of purple energy directly into the swarm of Shanks, watching them helplessly fly into the exploding orb and disintegrating into an outline in the remaining translucent field barely a dozen meters above my head. "Punch it!" I yelled, grabbing Crush, placing the gun on my back and bracing for the sudden acceleration.

Let's just say, I'm infinitely grateful for magnets because as soon as I said that, the ship shot forward much harder than I had anticipated and would have ripped my grip clean free if I hadn't activated the magnetic grip. They held their own though, allowing me to stay connected and on board as we pushed away from the swarm in the general direction of where Starco thought Heksis' pod would have gone. The Shanks immediately took notice of our new route and shifted their pattern in our way.

The ODDs blasted holes in multiple Shanks at a time, and I sprayed entire baskets of machine gun ammo at the time, red streaks of laser and solar-attuned bullets streaking against the purple and ripping through the weak armor of the Fallen robots, but for every one down, two seemed to replace them as their lines inched ever closer to the ship. Every now and again, Starco would throw the ship left or right or rotate it without warning to evade any coming directly at the front, but suddenly, everything went south. Without any warning I heard, the right engine exploded into a pile of shrapnel with enough power to negate the mag grips and send me spiraling off the ship, helplessly flying without Crush or a way back on. A fiery sensation beyond any pain I'd felt before shot up the left side of my body and blurred my vision. Trying to see through the blur and failing miserably, I searched around for something, anything, to slow down, but there wasn't any debris big enough. The biggest things closest to me were the shanks that had noticed I had flown off, and their laser fire was only encouraging me to find something. There was nothing though, and an alarm reporting a suit breach pounded my head repeatedly, a sound I'd been ignoring for good reason, but reality set in. We'd failed.

I decided to turn away from the onslaught of Shanks rapidly closing in on me, and immediately found what I'd been searching for amidst the chaos: Heksis' pod, or at least what remained of it. Even from here with my blurry vision, I could tell that it had been breached, and there was a dark, humanoid form floating helplessly just outside of it. That's when everything went black.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Arla Nublier**

Arla's world was spinning at a sickening pace. The lights in the ship flickered as she tried to piece together what had just happened, the last few seconds being nothing but a black spot. There'd been an explosion, and the ship got tossed like a wad of paper in a gale. There-ther-th-th...an explosion. Holes...shanks...explosions. Then...something else, another...impact... Her mind struggled to piece together a functioning thought. Heavy boots stomped on top of the ship from seemingly every direction.

Fighting unconsciousness, Arla unceremoniously undid her restraints, and fell hard against the metal floor. "Starco? What happened?" she struggled to say, fighting the sleepiness still trying to come over her. Her vision continued to swim in front of her. "Starco? Maximus?" She pushed herself onto her hands and knees and then her unsteady feet. Something stopped whirring to her right, and suddenly, she was floating. That was almost a relief because she could move without as much effort, but that also meant there was no power in the ship. "Maximus? Starco? Are any of you there. Adrenaline took over, wiping away her nausea and unsteadiness. Arla drew her custom pistol and worked her way to the pilot's chair.

Arla grabbed her knife and channeled a massive amount of charge into it. Using it like a battery, she plugged it into a slot beneath the main console of the ship and was able to open the HUD for just a few seconds. Massive amounts of damage were spread across the entire ship. The right engine was toast, and the left had massive amounts of damage. The shields were completely gone, and most of the hull armor had been beaten to a pulp by a massive amount of shanks digging their way in. It was only a matter of time before...Arla saw a flicker of shadow across the front and made sure her helmet was on all the way. She also secured the straps over her pistol. Just as she thought, a shank charged, spiral drill first, into the front, sending cracks through all of the glass and digging until it shattered. Instinctively grabbing her knife, Arla rushed forward as the air escaped and buried it deep within the shank. Spinning quickly and satisfied she'd at least tried, Arla sheathed her knife and pushed off the shank, waiting for the void to take her.

Arla silently laughed that her final end was coming in the Reef, almost exactly like the first time. "Fate truly is undeniable," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes and basking in the pink-purple of the place she had loved and forsaken.


	19. The Truth of Time

**Chapter 18**

 **The Truth of Time**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

Something brushed against my hand, something deft and agile, a fly perhaps. Impossible, there were no flies in space. Whatever it was tapped my hand again, my left hand and closer to the palm, the one that wasn't supposed to be there. Eyes still closed, I flexed my fingers, then my hand, I the entire arm , disbelief taking over. The last I knew, this arm was supposedly to be floating off in space attached to the wreckage of my ship, but...it was here, on my shoulder just as it should be. Had I been revived? No. Arla couldn't have, and Charli was back at the Tower. Heksis could have if he hadn't been spaced, but I think he had been the first of us to perish, a shame really.

I peeked open my eyes and saw...my room. How I was back in the Tower? Of the questions racing through my mind, the foremost had to be that "How?" We were in space, lost in space for that matter, killed in the Reef at the worst. The ship was destroyed and Starco along with it. But unlike Arla, I didn't feel like there was a part of me missing. Maybe I'd already gone through that period of discomfort, or perhaps that was due to just how short of a time I'd been a Guardian. I'd like to think it'd been less than a year, but the days had all blended together at this point, become one congealed mess of mostly Vex, Fallen, guns, and the Black Garden. Once again, we were lost in that labyrinth, but now we were hunting the Fallen, their House of Illusion, and a Kell we couldn't detect. Who knows what he's been doing right under our noses, what plans he's put in place, the traps he has laid. Day by day, hour by hour, and minute by minute, he had to be adding to his numbers in the City, maybe even the Tower.

If the latter were true, there had to be a traitor within our midst. Someone who had been replaced and gained access to the Tower, brought more of them in, and done the same thing, rotting the Guardians from the inside, out. Arla had been right back in the Reef; this was most definitely a different type of war, however Variks had some merit as well, saying that there were different rules to the same kind of war that had always existed.

No, Variks was right. War never changes, merely the sides and what they fight for. He was far more experienced than the rest of us, seen how the Fallen operate, seen how the Awoken fought, witnessed how the Guardians worked. Could religion be the sole reason they fought us? Thinking they are avenging a god taken captive by aliens? Or perhaps, part of their intentions are less than holy. Those had been sons, daughters, COs, grunts, mothers, fathers, and who knows what else. Thinking of them that way almost made them...human, relatable. In one of my isolated conversations with Heksis, he'd asked me something along the lines of my opinion of the Fallen. I'd called them a threat to the City, a threat to those I cared for, and so they would be dealt with thusly. That was an arrogant statement, but it was no less true. They were minions of a darkness we couldn't comprehend. And that brings up another question: what are _we_ fighting for?

The Traveler had released more Ghosts after the destruction of the Garden, but it hadn't done anything since. It still lay dormant, a broken machine in need of repairs that we were unequipped to give it. Again, what are we fighting for? Why would we fight for a broken machine that some Fallen hail as a God? Is it just the curse of man, the greed that corrupts us all, even if slightly? Is this light simply that greed incarnate, or are we the disillusioned ones? Do we fight simply to keep away those who want to use the Traveler's technologies for themselves, much as we did? Is man really that arrogant to think that we are being hunted simply for access, that we are the sole reason for a war that has lasted centuries? Perhaps. We'd seen it in years past. Countries long ago fell because of that same arrogance. Was it simply our time? The Illusion to humanity as an asteroid was to the dinosaurs? Have we caged ourselves in this City, huddling over what little of our treasure remains in hopes that it will suddenly replenish itself?

Something grabbed my arm and yanked me from my stupor with a violent shake. A white, metal face with piercing blue eyes stared back at me from the edge of my bed. She still wore her usual hood and blank expression, but there was something different swimming in her body language. Instead of her usual swagger, hand on her hip and confident glare, there was something empty behind those eyes like she'd seen a ghost, a phantom. Her gaze was more pointed downward than it was at me, her words seemed to do the same. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice hollow.

I flexed my arm again and sat up against the back of the bed, feeling some resistance from my right as I did. "I think so," I managed to mutter. Two things clicked into place as I adjusted my seated position. She'd been watching us the entire time we were in the Reef, probably watching me and especially those I've interacted with personally since she pulled me aside at the baseball stadium. Two things that didn't make sense at first. "Why?" I looked to my right and saw Arla asleep next to me on the bed. Heksis was hunched over in the corner, unconscious. "Why did you save us? How did you get us back here?" Dea shook her head solemnly and tapped at something on her wrist. Suddenly, the room disintegrated into a dull gray cell with lights slowly cooling off and becoming invisible again. The bed was real, but the once-colored walls and door had turned out to be gray, padded sheets over metal. Suddenly trying to piece things together again, I asked, "Where are we?"

"You're on my ship, _The Expanse_ ," she declared quietly, her head still down. "My home, and now yours. As for the why, it's not so simple. "

I was puzzled. "Well, start from the beginning then."

"Starting there isn't necessarily a good idea, not yet at least."

"Well then, how about you start with how you found us?" I prompted.

Dea looked away for a second as if she were seriously considering not telling us, pondering whether or not to get rid of us. "Tracking beacon to keep it simple, and that's about as simple as it's going to be from here on out."

"So you've had eyes on us the entire time." I concluded flatly. I wasn't entirely pleased she placed a tracker on us, but it was scarcely the first time, and I was almost sure that would ultimately be the last.

Dea nodded slowly. "I'm not proud of it. Not proud of the lies, and that's why I hope this will make up for it."

I tossed a glance at Arla and Heksis. "By saving us?"

She, too, looked at the sleeping Guardians. "That's the first step yes. The second is telling the truth." I squinted suspiciously at her. The fact she conceded this, implying she'd lied to me yet again, was unsurprising and expected, but that still disturbed me. "How can I trust that you're not going to lie to me again?"

"All you have to do is watch." She raised her hand, a white-blue light beginning to spawn from her fingertips, lacing themselves around her fingers and spreading into the air around her, around us. Non-baryonic streams, those same ones we saw with the Vex, enveloped us both, tied us together, and mixed us with the ever-speeding flow of time. The laces grew taut, holding my arms and legs hostage against the rest of my body while Dea continued her conjuring dance. Lights continued to flare and spark and fizzle from her fingertips as the room faded away in a haze of white. Suddenly, the streams darkened, some of them turning a sickly green, while others a steely gray. In the distance, a dusty haze gathered at the horizon, sending a ghostly glow across the base of a starless sky. A sense of dread and hopelessness settled with the stagnant breeze. I spun around, trying not to believe my eyes, believe that they were deceiving me, but I quickly realized...they weren't.

This was the Black Garden…

...in all of its mechanical and twisted glory.

I turned to Dea and swallowed the anxiety that began to well up. "Why are we here?" I demanded, the fear I felt from my first time here returning despite its conclusion. She said nothing, choosing to point downward at the sanctuary below us, a scene all too familiar. Three stone statues stood, praising a pulsating, black enigma while a throng of overgrown, cone-headed robots knelt in silent, robotic prayer. Three figures in dusty, white armor dashed towards the sanctuary through a metallic, maze-like canyon. They paused just outside of the gate for but a moment and awaited for a signal from the one nearest the door. A loud, metallic thud echoed through the canyon they stood in as the door to the sanctuary hissed and groaned as it opened, and suddenly, all of the praying Vex were on guard and taking up positions above and below the moss-covered catwalks, weapons pointed at the opening door.

With a deft flick of the fingers, the three soldiers turned the corner, marking targets but finding themselves outnumbered four or five to one. Angry red glows emitted from the Vex's weapons as they marked the intruders, but neither side fired. Just as the first minute of the stalemate passed, three orbs of energy shot out of the enigma above them, slowly arcing onto the statues and absorbing into their stony skin. A bronze light cracked through the stone as they twisted off their pedestal and leapt onto the ground below, like the stony undead. The ground shook beneath us, but neither Dea or me felt anything, like we were phantoms watching over the living. Each statue looked towards the intruders with unseeing eyes full of a fiery rage.

In unison, their gravelly voices boomed, "We are the Progeny, and you are an infection. Why do you desecrate our Garden?" None of them moved, but one of them seemed to grip his or her rifle tighter.

Dea stood on the edge of the cliff, watching expressionlessly at the three figures. "This is when everything changed for me," she stated softly. I looked at her eyes, her face and saw no feeling in them whatsoever. It was disconcerting, but as I watched, I understood why. One of the three quickly reached for a large weapon on his/her back, a rocket launcher, and without any hesitation, opened fire to the central soldier's dismay. All watched in horror as the rocket sped towards the pulsating heart, reversed direction, and careened directly into its origin before any of them could react. The soldier in the middle had reached his/her arm out fruitlessly in an effort to somehow save the now-dead comrade. All of the Vex fired at once, the one in charge of them all, Dea from the past, ducked beneath many of the lasers and let loose some sort of grenade in the middle of the pack of Vex and sprinted into cover just as a purple explosion enveloped several of the robots. I turned my attention from her just in time to see her other comrade fall. Dea dodged a few more bolts before one hit the back of her knee, sending her sprawling onto the ground as yet more caught her torso and shoulders. A towering Minotaur glowered over her and put its gun in her face, but just before it pulled the trigger, the statues boomed, "Leave her!" Silence ruled for a moment. "Such wills the Heart." The Minotaur suddenly lost the light in its eye and fell over in a crumpled heap.

I thought she was dead as I could see a gathering puddle of fluids, but then I looked at her present being standing stoically just feet from me and saw her past self trying to crawl towards her weapon. One of the massive progenies leaned down and snatched her up in one hand before she was anywhere near the gun. It looked at her, a grain of sand upon the barren beach of its palm, and stated, "The Heart shows mercy upon you. This shall be your punishment." With a gesture of its other hand, another of those pillars of non-baryonic streams rose from the ground. Limp from the loss of fluids, Dea squeezed easily into the pillar, the streams turning blue, then red, then orange, disappearing after the latter. Slowly, Dea's form become nothing but a shadow, and then that disappeared as well.

The Martian scene returned to the white of the streams as I stood there, confused at what had just transpired. "That was the day the Vex truly became a threat, the day they cursed me and doubled their efforts to conquer Mars, Venus, Mercury, and set their sights on Earth," she curled a fist. "They doomed me to immortality, leaving me to witness over and over again the death of humanity. I've seen the rise of the Guardians, but I've also seen them never get far off the ground. I've seen them triumph over nearly all enemies and ultimately succumb to their own greed." The scene shifted to a City covered in mossy metal, an endless landscape of machines. A large spire shot directly through the bottom of the Traveler, and everything was noticeably darker. "Then again, I've seen humanity not even stand a chance, seen the Vex invade…" The scene shifted to a mostly destroyed and scorched City with large ships patrolling the sky. "...the Cabal raid…" Now, the City turned into a grotesque mound of chitin and insect-like horror. "...the Hive victorious…" Finally, the City became unrecognizable, alien architecture built into the frame of the City itself. Skiffs and Ketches soared overhead. "...and the Fallen under one banner." She shook her head. "Hundreds of times I've seen the City fall. I've met and interacted with thousands of Guardians, resurrected this off shoot of The Agents of the Nine in this area hundreds of times. I've met you and Arla and Lee and Cayde and Charli many, many times. I've seen you relegated to an underling, dead, or a Vanguard. Seen the same with Arla, Charli and so many other Guardians. I seen relationships blossom or die, but never have I directly interfered. At the same time, never have I seen something like what has transpired."

"You're avoiding something," I inserted, growing slightly impatient. The experience had disoriented me and confused me. She wouldn't be doing this if she wasn't trying to cover up something. "What is it?"

Our white room became a series of screens running nothing but static. She gestured to the screens, only a handful of them showed any sort of picture. As the numbers on the top left of each screen cycled every couple of seconds, indicating another feed, I only counted ten, two being of this room at different angles. "This." she responded, pointing to the multitude of screens. "Guardians and their Ghosts aren't hard to track, especially since they seem to leave a wake of bodies and destruction in their path, not to mention the unique data signature the ghosts always give off. What you're seeing is a feed from each of the Guardians we could track, which is essentially everyone from before the Black Garden. It wasn't unusual for the techs we have watching these to see one go dark in the middle of a firefight, but just after everything with the Wall, we started to see these go dark without any warning. For the past couple months, they've gone down at an alarming rate." She stood steadfast yet somewhat defeated. "We tried what we could, but the Illusion Skiffs and Ketches seem to escape our scanners or bolt to some untrackable coordinates beyond the solar system we haven't been able to intercept yet. We think it's their base of operations or main Ketch, maybe both. Thought we had it when we tracked it to the Reef, but that's when we found you three."

I cut her off. "What about the Guardians' feeds disappearing?" The fact that a massive amount of Guardians were dead in one fell swoop raised my suspicions. I'll deal with the deus, or rather Dea, ex machina later.

Dea teetered on her feet for a moment and then gestured to the screens. "When the feed cuts out, that means their Ghost was destroyed." She pointed back towards the satellite image of the City. She changed a few settings to something that covered several screens in dark blue with a few patches of green, yellow, and red. It reminded me of a thermal display, but as she forwarded the footage, it became apparent that wasn't a thermal image. Instead, it was measuring energy spikes. The energy readings spread out from dozens of points all around the City, below the City. "Multiple EMPs all across the City and a several across the main AOs on the Moon, Venus, and Mars. The Ghosts were destroyed on contact, and any Guardians are most likely as well. It'd take several miracles for them to survive."

"What about the Speaker and the Vanguard?" They had to have a way out of the Tower before everything collapsed.

"There were a certain few that we couldn't track. The Vanguard, the Speaker, and yours to be specific. We also have very few from this new wave of Ghosts. One reason I would ask you for direct feeds, use others' to find you, or simply wait until I happened upon you."

I threw off the blanket and stepped onto the cold floor. "Sounds inefficient," I commented.

Dea shrugged. "You had your opportunity to make that simpler..." she snapped. "...but you pointed a gun in my face." I almost cut in, but Dea stopped me. "I know you had no reason to. I just hope you found my job back then...eye opening." She was referring to when she sent Starco and I to watch Arla with some experimental technology. Failed in Traveler Square when Arla pulled us out of the shadows in an ironic twist of time. I stayed silent and let her keep talking. "Either way, I have people running the numbers from the attack, and it's not looking good."

"Then why aren't we acting?" I demanded, beginning to feel the guilt and pressure for being taken out of the picture while the Illusion began their endgame. Chief Cosay must have been with them and set the whole trap up.

I made a move toward the walls and reared back to punch my way through, but Dea put a stern hand on my chest and gently set my arm back at my side. "Maximus, I admire what you're trying to do, but the City is a lost cause at this point, a suicide mission. Even if you pull it from the ashes, it'll take decades, even centuries to rebuild it. Which is why I have a pair of choices for you." She moved towards one wall and set her hand on it. The screens changed back to a picture of the City, the Tower still standing heroically over an untouched City. "My curse may be broken, but I still have function over time. This is a version of the world that I have discovered has no immediate threat from the Illusion. Perhaps they were completely destroyed there. If you go, then everything you know and see from here will disappear, become a distant nightmare, and you'll take over the Maximus that is there. I don't know what he knows or his role, but the world isn't ending there."

"You're kidding me right? You know I won't do that." I asked, shocked at such a suggestion.

"You'd be surprised," she hinted. "But I understand. Then that means you default to the second option."

"Which is?"

"I'm coming with you." I wanted to deny it, but I held my mouth shut, my denial implicit in the look I gave her. "Never have I directly interacted. It's time to put my money where my mouth is. It's time that humanity wins for once."

I agreed. I don't know what exactly she's experienced over and over again, but the sheer amount of times she's seen alternate versions of Arla, of Charli, of the Vanguard, of me die was staggering, and I was sure she was just low-balling it. Why hadn't she run to those alternate realities when things went south? Why did she want to fight now? If anything, this conversation had brought up more questions than it had answered, and...I accepted it. That's just how Dea operated. Her being an Agent of the Nine had to come with its own gray areas, knowledge that I would never be able to obtain or, if I could obtain it, understand. Her curse from the Heart must have run deeper than what her words referenced, maybe consolidate all of the different versions of herself into one version, one with unlimited knowledge of the other worlds her copies had experienced, absorb their abilities, their knowledge, and watch the world burn over and over again. The more I thought about what situation the City was in, a possibly vast and unseen army staging a coup d'etat with only one side being aware of it, the more I realized the astronomical odds we faced. Dea, like Arla and Variks, was right. This was beginning to look like a suicide mission, and I'm willing to die. The question was how many more besides myself would have to in order to save the City, one way or another.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

About a half hour later, Dea rushed me to the Strategic Operations room aboard her ship. The hallways were a stark white, contrasting with the dark grey, nearly black, grated metal of the hallway. Despite my weight and the material of the floor, I couldn't hear a single step that I made. The door to the room hissed open vertically and revealed a dark-skinned man with grayish-white hair standing over a detailed satellite map of the City.

The City itself was divided into sections, something I didn't know existed outside of financial districts versus residential and the likes, of which I still didn't know all of the details. As I got closer to the map, I realized that every now and again it would flash, revealing the most current data on the area. Some buildings would be there in one iteration and, suddenly, be gone in the next. Near the palace, a makeshift wall made out of the rubble cemented together in a surprisingly sturdy fashion began to come together. However, it was what was slowly climbing upward around the palace that caught my eye. Large cannons, anti-air most likely, were under construction and steadily finding themselves climbing upward and reaching for the sky.

Dea went on to the console with the map, grabbing the edge of it with her hands and leaning over the latest situation while speaking softly to the older man while I stood just inside the doorway. Around me, there were people at various chest-level stations with different screens. Most of them wore opaque helmets or a headset as they tapped away, but the room was silent despite my being able to see Dea's mouth glowing as she spoke. The aging man in a black and white uniform, pressed and important-looking, glanced in my direction before turning back to who I assumed was his superior. Dea stopped talking for a moment and let the man respond. She nodded a couple times and then continued talking, this time using one of her hands as she spoke. She then pointed to something near the crumbled remains of the Tower lying across a fair amount of the City's central section, covering up several of the separated districts altogether and encroaching several parts of others.

The air had a tense feel to it, a mix of nervousness, anxiety, sleep deprivation, and a general sense of being on-edge. Both of them continued to shoot their gazes in my direction, making me feel as though I should have moved out of the doorway, but I couldn't find the strength to do it. Instead, I held my ground until Dea, without looking away from the man, signaled me to come there. They straightened their postures as I approached. Dea gestured politely to her comrade and introduced him. "Maximus this is Saul Mueller, chief of tactical operations and my eye in the sky."

Saul extended a hand and a plastered smile, saying in a shockingly smooth voice, "An honor it is to meet you, sir." I shot Dea a confused expression that she promptly ignored. I lightly shook his hand, feeling his frail bones as I did and saying, "Honor's all mine, sir." For someone in a military position, he more closely resembled a pencil with skin, tough but delicate when compared to most of the men, women, and Exos in the room. I gestured toward the map and the markers on it. "So, what's the plan?" I asked.

Dea resumed her leaned-over position over the map, and Chief Mueller crossed his arms, encasing himself in an analytical gaze. He moved a hand to his chin and began speaking through its cupped position. "So far, we've been able to confirm that around thirty Guardians are still alive out there according to the latest bioscan of the area. All of them are unconscious as we predicted, but at least two-thirds of them will be dead if they try to move." He gestured to a grouping of dots around the rubble of the Tower. All of the dots were placed on top of the rubble, but they were most likely beneath. The image refreshed again and some of the dots had moved slightly. An analyst at a nearby station stood and announced, "Madam, we've detected movement at the Tower site. Satellite hasn't picked up anything, but I think one of the sections is about to collapse."

"Adamas, can I get a highlight?" Dea requested.

"Yes ma'am," the analyst called back, tapping away at his screen. A red marker appeared over a long section that used to be the storage for the ships on the Tower. A current image from the satellite popped up on it, showing the cracked structure and slightly torched pieces of the Tower. The image turned thermal and showed a steadily growing patch of red around that section of the Tower.

"That's not rubble shifting." Mueller realized. "Some of the ships in there are about to explode." His head dipped and mouth moved, the words in audible. With his hand, he made a cross, connecting his head, shoulders, and chest. Audibly, he prayed, "May God bless their souls." Within the next few seconds, the satellites picked up a large fireball as the ships and stored fuel ignited in a blaze of glory. Shards of the already-blown-up Tower flew into the air, crushing numerous buildings and destroying others. Some of the smaller bits of debris were detected all close to Traveler Square in the center of the City. Mumbled curses and silence permeated the air. I looked around the room and saw shocked faces renewed with surprise.

The image refreshed heartlessly, showing the debris of the Tower spread even further out, more buildings missing. "All Guardian contacts near the Tower have stopped transmitting. They're KIA."

"We know what that means Adamas!" Chief blurted, leaning down over the map. He cursed under his breath. With a cry, he banged a fist on the map, causing the entire image to blur with the surprising amount of strength behind that frail arm. I looked back towards the map and noticed the the destroyed Tower had actually shifted slightly from the force of the impact. The rubble was a little more disjointed now, but it was no less devastating. After the Chief's outburst, not a muscle moved for several minutes.

Dea broke it. "Alright everyone, if we're going to save the City, we gotta move as quick as possible. We need boots on the ground in the next twelve hours."

Another analyst piped up, the sole Awoken in the room as far as I could tell. "Chief, we're picking up a signal on all channels."

"Origin?" Mueller barked.

"It's the City, sir."

"Bring it up!" Dea ordered. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, a small-faced woman, and handed me a small tablet with the feed on it. I thanked her and immediately turned my attention, nearly dropping it when the video started.

On it, the Speaker stood stoically behind a podium, flanked by the Queen at a separate podium and each of the Vanguard standing between them. The Speaker took a deep breath and a long look at the gathered crowd of those displaced by the attack. "Ladies, gentlemen, Guardians, men, women, children, Exos, and citizens of this glorious City. Today marks one that will forever live in our hearts and memories as the last day anything in the City was normal. As of a few hours ago, we suffered a deliberate attack on our fair City and Tower in an attempt to neutralize both in the process. As you can no doubt tell, our losses are many. To the Guardians who perished, including those who care for them, we are truly sorrowful for their loss and proud of their service to this City, regardless of the length. Currently, we have been unable to contact our Reef allies or Guardians abroad, but I assure you that we will reach them and bring upon these perpetrators a wrath the likes of which they've never seen.

"'What enemy would do this?' you might ask. This enemy is far different and far more intelligent than anything our City and Guardians have ever faced. They are Fallen, but are capable of disguising themselves as anyone, including Guardians. They care not for families, only the Traveler, our Great Machine. They seek to end humanity's reign, but we shall not fail. None shall penetrate our walls and live to tell the tale. Our Vanguard know their second wave is coming, we've located some of their agents, and I promise you they shall be dealt with swiftly. This City has stood for centuries, and it shall stand for several more. That much I can promise you.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, the Queen and I must begin our talks to ensure our City is fortified against whatever the enemy will throw our way." the Speaker and Queen left their respective podiums. I immediately assumed the Queen was either there simply to show she was there or had previously spoken. Now, some stage hands removed a podium and moved the other to the center, allowing Commander Zavala to take his place.

"If you are a Guardian, please return to your defensive posts. Our enemies draw near. If you are not, then please lend me your ears." He cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, as our Queen and Speaker have since mentioned, the time for peace in the City must take a momentary pause with these invaders. While I can assure you that we are preparing impregnable defenses to keep reinforcements out of the City, we cannot guarantee those already inside the City don't pose a threat. While a great many of you are helping construct these defenses, our Guardians will be spread rather thin after the today's tragic loss. That is why the Vanguard are sponsoring a City militia, open to anyone over the age of eighteen. We promise you state-of-the-art weapons and armor to help us combat these invaders, but I will warn you that we cannot guarantee your safety. These enemies are crafty, looking just like you and me, but I can assure you that you will be fully trained and equipped to combat these savages. We will not force you to do it, but it is your duty to protect your home and your loved ones, so I implore you to sign on. Any interested parties should see the palace guards." Wordlessly, Zavala turned on his heel, flanked by the other members of the Vanguard.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Conference Room inside the Palace**

 **2 hours later…**

Each of the Illusion leadership sat in a rather plain conference room. Instead of expensive, lavish decorations across the windows and walls, only the red-painted walls revealed the edges of the room with a singular long table with eight chairs, five of them occupied. Gilmis, Kell of the Illusion, sat at the head of the table in front of a large screen with a map of the City on it. To his right sat Thuzia, dressed in Ikora Rey's robes, and, opposite her was Klim as Zavala. Dressed in a hood and sitting adjacent to Thuzia was Dreko, twirling a knife in his hand, and, at the rear of the table, sat Vulkra as the Queen. A new form swept through the doorway and sat across from Dreko. This newcomer was dressed in tight fitting armor with metal protruding out of his bottom pair of arms and a couple of screens put a sizable indent top pair of forearms. "Commander Gilmis," he saluted as he pulled the chair out and settled in.

"Captain Trivak, an unexpected surprise, welcome to the table," Gilmis said expressionlessly. "I trust the Ketch is in good repair."

"Indeed, Commander," he said, out of breath. "We found it Commander. We found the Black Garden and are prepared to depart effective immediately."

Gilmis stood up. "Then we must depart immediately."

Thuzia also rose. "Sir!" she said incredulously. "The Nine are about to stage an offensive!"

"That faux organization you've been tracking is nothing, has nothing, other than a reject robot with commitment issues. If you can't handle them, then I'm sure Klim would gladly taking your place as acting leader." Klim sat in his chair a little taller.

"Sir, you know I can handle it. It just becomes a question of intelligence. We don't know what they're bringing. Our agents aboard their ship have been unable to access the meetings."

Gilmis growled. "Then, that's your problem, Vulkra. They're your troops, so figure it out. I would hope you trained them for a little...adversity." Vulkra sat down with her head hung low, contemplating something. Gilmis couldn't help but think that Vulkra had been rather reckless as of late. First was the Cabal. Second was their taking out the Speaker. This apparent lack of preparation for the coming battle, one prophesied years ago, was concerning. Three mistakes was usually enough for Gilmis to get rid of the offending officer, but he kept his weapons holstered and sheathed; she hadn't messed up yet, but he was going to keep her on a short leash, especially if those agents got anywhere near their wall, especially if there are any miraculous survivors... "Thuzia!" Gilmis barked after several seconds of silence. Everyone's heads snapped towards Gilmis' direction, finally tearing away from Vulkra's direction. "How close are the guns being ready to fire?"

"Just over an hour, sir. Our engineers are ahead of schedule as we discussed."

"Tell them to work as if they were behind schedule."

"Sir…" Thuzia began.

Gilmis interrupted immediately. "Don't question it. Just get it done. Triviak, we're leaving now!" Without further delay, Gilmis marched out of the room, leaving behind him a myriad of confused looks and guesses. Triviak, still silent, rose a few seconds later and followed his Kell outside the room.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Note from the SFR:

Hey all! Sorry about the extended wait for this chapter. This one was...a process to say the least. Rewrote the entire chapter twice, rewrote another part a third time, and then proceeded to add on to it (believe you me it was all over the place those other times). Regardless, it's here. You made it. If you've read from the beginning to this point, thank you so very much. If you haven't, thank you all the same. If this is the first chapter you've seen of mine, I hope it was good. Probably not the most exciting stuff, but I think things will get a little more...action-packed. Without further ado...

 **Welcome to Act III.**


	20. The Time for Truth

**Chapter 19**

 **The Time of Truth**

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

 **18 hours later…**

Drop pods. That's what Dea called them. That's what was inscribed in black paint against the gray walls and flurry of activity behind me. Drills whirred, people of varying tonality, gender, and origin shouted different orders that blended into the background. I, however, was focused on walking down this hallway one step at a time. When I saw " **DROP POD BAY** " in large black letters, I stopped for a moment, the future stopping me like a wall. I was the Speaker, a feeling that I'd been denying for some time now.

A few weeks ago, I felt something change, but I couldn't tell what. It was more subtle than anything else. In my head, I heard a new voice, felt thoughts that were not my own nor were Starco's, new impressions. This, perhaps, is why he's been so silent as of late, didn't want to mess with the messages from what I knew was the Traveler. Though if I'm honest with myself, I'd suppressed his suggestions too, blindly focusing on what Dea would have me do to counteract the situation. Before the ship blew up, I hadn't taken much of his advice, feeling my own ideas were a little more suited for the situation, that Dea knew what to do. Now as I stand here with the City in shambles and most of the Guardians dead, I couldn't help but think _'Could_ he _have been right?'_ If I'd listened to him, would we have saved the Tower, the City? This, I could tell, was going to be something plaguing me for the rest of my life, regardless of the outcome not too long from now. If Starco had the ability, I'm sure he'd be smirking with an "I told ya so," on his non-existent lips.

"Little late for that now," he said, flashing into existence above my shoulder. "But at least you've decided to embrace it. Now that you're listening, what's it telling you?"

I blocked out the noise for a moment, trying to find some connection to the Traveler, one that transcended everything else around me, but nothing came to me, no surge of energy or Light or anything, simply me standing there with my eyes shut. "It's telling me…" I began slowly. "...Not to rush into connections I haven't yet fully explored," I finished, trying to add a sense of mysticality to my voice. Starco wasn't amused, responding with: "So nothing then. Got it."

Deciding I'd stood there long enough, my legs moved forward without me really telling them to, searching for Drop Pod number thirteen. As I walked through the corridor, I would toss my eyes into the small window on each of the closed doors. Most of them were unsurprisingly empty, none of their command requiring them to report to their pods for at least another thirty minutes, but that wasn't going to stop me or Arla for that matter. As far as I knew though, she was getting something to eat. I would've joined her, but I was struggling to make sense of everything that had happened, of everything that was about to happen. I struggled with the fact that I may have to kill some of the people I was trying to protect, not only because I had a team I was putting in harm's way but also because the Illusion were going to use the citizens as meat shields. Changing their minds wouldn't be too hard when the dust settles, mainly because the Illusion can't retain their form past death, however nothing was going to stop them from opening fire on what they perceived as an enemy while their Guardian protectors moved "to get a better vantage point." It would become a Catch 22. Fire, and we'd maim or kill those we were trying to protect. Don't, and we'd literally be sacrificing ourselves. The plan was to stay away from the patrols altogether, but everyone in the room knew that there was no way that we were going to sneak into Traveler Square or the Queen's Palace undetected by someone or something.

I halted in front of my pod, punching the access code Dea had given me beforehand and then pushing the button at the top that opened the door. With a pressurized hiss, it slid open, the few yet luminous light fixtures coming to life and letting me see its octagonal interior. Each flat side was a seat with a heavy frame that could be pulled down and adjusted to keep someone from moving. Per Dea, there was also several openings connected to pipes that would quickly fill the pod with a fluid that would keep us from dying upon the abrupt impact with the ground when we launched. Hard and fast, that was how she described the impact while we were in the command center. She reasoned that the anti-air guns couldn't hit what they track unless they got lucky, so the entire pod was going to fill with a fluid that would, theoretically, break our fall. I had my doubts, but held my tongue. In all likelihood, I could survive that, anyone in the pod hopefully could with the gear we were given…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Earlier…**

"What's this?" I asked, taking the cylindrical package Dea was offering me. It was fairly heavy, heavier than the box Ikora had given me all that time ago, a time that seemed like a past life at this point. At the same time though, it all felt so fresh. The Garden, the Vex, the Cosmodrome, all of it so recent yet so distant. Dea's voice snapped me back to the bleak present.

"The last set of armor you'll ever wear," she announced. "It's tougher than anything the Tower or the City were able to develop, and the shielding should withstand quite a bit more damage before failing. I put in a special request for yours and Arla's though."

"Is that so? What'd you do to them?" I eyed the container, slightly suspicious of its contents now.

She gestured with an open palm to the uniform. "Why don't you put it on and find out?" I unzipped the package and began shedding the Guardian armor, Starco storing it piece by piece and sending me apprehensive thoughts. It felt a little awkward at least partially undressing in front of her, but I ignored it and admired her professionalism as she patiently waited for my to slip the pieces on.

For the most part, the armor was white, however it was stylized after my own warlock robes. The most apparent difference being that the padding was a little thicker but more flexible. I pulled the helmet out, and immediately recognized its shape, just like the one that had broken at Suros: Light Beyond Nemesis but with a white and gold shading to the metal feathers with a similar sheen across the reflection of the black visor. On the back and in gold lettering, there was a hand-lettered message: " **Bane of the Machines**." Dea folded her arms and watched me expectantly. I slid the helmet over my head and watched as the HUD immediately powered up, a small, white diamond with the center exchanged for a blue eye occupying the top right in a minimalized way. " **Ghost Connected** " blinked across the screen for but a second.

Suddenly, the HUD highlighted an L-shaped object arcing towards me with a bright blue circle. Immediately, I reached for it, finding the object to be a pistol. Pulling the slide back, I noticed another figure highlighted, this time, in orange. I shoved my right arm, pistol in hand, forward and pulled the trigger, the orange figure shattering and fading away on the floor. The whole encounter took less than two seconds.

I tossed the gun back to Dea, exclaiming, "Now that's a targeting system!"

Dea chuckled lightly as I took off my helmet, holstering the pistol. "Glad you like it. Figured it was a bit of an upgrade. Everything fit well enough?"

I stretched my legs and arms, rotating them and jogging in place, ending it with a long stretch towards the ground. "Feels good. Starco?"

The Ghost flashed into the air next to me. "You guys might be liars, but you sure can make a set of armor," he said. "How were you able to get Ghost compatibility?"

"I'll ignore the slight, but time and experience," she said with a wink. She reached behind her back and pulled out something else, a small rectangle with a red button on it. "Something old, yet new," she announced, pressing the button and throwing it in my direction. There was a flash similar to the one she had when we met on Venus all that time ago and in my hands landed a MIDA Multi-Tool in the same coloration as my armor. I appreciated the gift, but it looked exactly the same as the one I had, just with a different paint job. "What's so new about it?" I asked, turning the weapon over in my hands a few times

Dea placed a hand on her hip. "A couple things actually. For one, the scope is tuned to see through the Illusion's disguises." As she spoke, she took a few steps towards me, gently raising my arms so that I was looking down the scope. "Your helmet can do that too, but it's always good to have backup, especially if you're nearly as rough with this helmet as you have been with others in the past." She reached for something on the gun, but I gently knocked it away in protest of what she said. "Don't get me wrong, Maximus, you're not the worst I've seen when it comes to breaking armor, but you've managed to break more than a few pieces. That said, and continuing with the theme, that helmet is made of material more durable than you'll be able to break with just a fall or a single punch from me or you. Smaller bullets will bounce off, but plasma melt away some of the layers and leave it exposed to larger bullets or other plasma…"

"So, don't get shot in the face," I interjected, sarcastically. "I've survived this long. What makes you think that I'm suddenly gonna keep my head above every piece of cover I come across?"

"Nothing. Just giving the speech the armorer told me to give you. Arla got a similar one…"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Just after the transmission…**

"What happened?!" a voice yelled into the Strategic Operations room. I turned around to see Arla, knife twirling angrily in her fingers. She stopped it on the hilt and carried it as she nearly jogged forward, maintaining a walking composure but that was as far as her leisure went.

Mueller stepped away from the console and attempted to slow her down. "Miss Nublier, we have a lot to exp…"

"Good," she interrupted. "Then start with why my home is in ruins, where the heck I am, and what you all did to Heksis?" Mueller tossed an uncertain glance at Dea who then deflected it to me. I squinted in Dea's direction and motioned Arla to the console, beginning to explain what transpired while we were all out.

She was devastated to say the least.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"But she got it from him," I countered.

"Her, but yes. So, you're probably wondering why I'm outfitting you then. The answer is simple: I wanted to see if my modifications worked, and, as expected, they are. Also, I need to give you your team's assignment." Dea began to move towards the exit, the door opening as she neared it.

I hurried after her, placing the weapon on my back and nearly falling over in surprise as it clattered to the floor. Without pausing, Dea called back, "The magnets are a little higher." Doing my best to keep embarrassment at bay, I picked up the weapon and didn't reach as far before the magnets nearly snatched it from my fingers. I caught up just as she turned the corner. "Team?" I asked. "I thought Arla and I were going after Charli."

Dea retained her brisk pace as she spoke. "Slight change of plan. You're going after Charli. I've put Arla in another squad that's focused on flanking the enemy in the square and lending fire support from the rooftops."

I tried to get her eyes on me, but she remained set on what was ahead of her, even when we turned a corner. "Dea, the last thing she needs right now is to be isolated. She just lost her home…"

Dea stopped abruptly. "She's also lost countless squadmates since she became a Guardian. Back then, she didn't grieve at all." Dea pushed a hand towards me, retracting it and continuing walking a second later when she resumed. "If she wants to call herself a Guardian despite their obvious destruction, then she needs to act like the one she used to be. The time to use gloves is gone, Maximus. Moping around a battlefield is only going to get her killed, especially against an enemy that has literally engineered themselves to be harder, better, faster, and stronger than you in almost every way imaginable and then some."

"Then why take her in the first place if she's going to be such a liability? Heck, why take me? I'm feeling the same rage she is."

"She's not feeling the same rage you are. She's feeling regret." Dea stopped at a doorway and turned to face me, leaning against the frame. "Look, I'm not going to say you can't see her before the mission, but I think if she's going to prepare herself for this battle, then she needs to figure everything out for herself. Maximus, I hope you realize that I can't guarantee we'll all make it back. This battle is probably going to look a lot like when you all defended the Wall, more akin to the ones you saw as an AEA soldier."

I tried to digest her words, but one thing still bothered me. "Why does it matter if I see her before the battle then?"

Dea straightened her posture against the doorway. "There's one thing you and I aren't necessarily able to emulate like humanity: sentiment. We're wonders of mankind. They're wonders of nature. No matter our degree of sentience, there are some things that remain distinctly human." She took a step inside the room. "Meet me and Mueller at the Strat Ops room in fifteen minutes. We've got to finalize a couple things, and then it's show time." The door shut

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Back in the Drop Pod**

"Mr. Speaker?" a voice called out from the doorway. I quit tapping my foot against the grated, metal floor, looking towards the door and answering, "Yes?" In stepped a woman in her middle-ages, gray-white streaks sweeping through her shoulder-length black hair. Her armor looked similar to a Titan's, and she carried herself like one too, her voice very formal, almost condescending to a certain degree. "The Captain wishes you the best of luck." I glanced at the band of black pain on her right arm, discerning her as a sergeant.

Keeping my head still, I looked at the wall next to the woman. "If the Captain wishes me luck, I'd rather her keep it for herself given our present circumstances." I turned back to her. "What's your name sergeant?"

"Beckham. Shelley Beckham. The Captain assigned me to your team along."

I nodded. "Then by all means take a seat. I was just...meditating on a few things, mulling over the plan before we got this underway." Beckham moved out of the ingress and sat in the seat adjacent to mine, setting her weapons in a bracket and bracing the lock. "Listen, Beckham, you don't have to use the formal demeanor. We're not out there yet."

Beckham hunched over and clasped her hands. "If there's a time for formality, sir, it's now more than ever. We're stepping on a battlefield that many people are going to die on today. The least I can give the walking dead is the courtesy they deserve."

"That's a little pessimistic don't you think?"

"A pessimist is what an optimist calls a realist."

I adjusted myself in my seat. "I don't know if I would quite call myself an optimist."

Beckham turned her head towards me, her joined arms drooping below her lap. "Then what are you?"

"That's the question I've been asking myself for quite some time now. I don't believe we ever truly know until the moment arrives." A hush fell over the room. One word rang out, "BRACE!" Alarms blared, and suddenly the world went sideways, Beckham and I being tossed across the pod and colliding with each other in a heap. Almost automatically, she rolled off of me and came up with her weapon drawn and a hand on her earpiece. "Davis, what was that?" She tore her weapon out of the bracket and listened. I reclaimed my own weapon and awaited the sitrep. Beckham let out a tense sigh, looking towards me. "We've got incoming Fallen. A few Skiffs and a Ketch bearing different Houses and all aiming our direction."

"To the fighters?" I asked, moving towards the door and referencing the sleek ships I saw in the hangar, ones I could only assume were fighters of some sort.

"Not yet. First wave is going out there as soon as the ship rights itself." My mind immediately turned to my last experience with them in space. While I was sure this ship was going to be a bit more resistant to it, all it would take is one weakness. "We don't have that long. Dea needs to get people out there right now if we're going to have any chance at…"

Beckham held up a finger and turned away. "Yes, Da-, Captain?" Beckham stiffened. "Madam, I must adv...Yes, right away." Beckham turned to me solemnly, eyeing me closely as she stepped towards the door.

"What's the verdict Sergeant?"

"We are to stay here until Specialist Davis arrives. Then, we launch into the City. The Captain's orders."

I took a couple aggressive steps in her direction, keeping my voice from echoing down the hallway but making my disagreement known. "We're abandoning ship?! We can't just run when things don't go according to plan."

My words obviously upset Beckham as her face suddenly turned to concrete. "You may be a speaker and a soldier, but, on this ship, we're warriors, brothers and sisters in arms. We trust one another, and if the Captain says that we need to get down there right away, I won't question it for a minute. I won't pretend to understand you Guardians, but there's a chain of command here. We follow what they say to the letter."

"And where would I fall in that chain?" I asked, readying myself to pull rank.

"Nowhere. As far as we are concerned, you're a civilian that can shoot a gun. We're protecting you and willingly giving our own troops to fight your war." Accepting my loss of leverage in the situation, I nodded slowly and moved back to my chair. Dea knew what she was doing. She had to know if she was going to be ordering around a ship full of people. I just hoped and prayed she knew what to expect from those Skiffs, prayed that we'd actually be able to get into the City before we were either shot to ribbons in the atmosphere or in the City.

Minutes passed like hours as we waited for Davis, flurries of activity bounding down the hallway, armed troops calling out and loading their drop pods around us. I heard large doors seal shut, followed by different alarms. Suddenly, the door shut, the restraints around me clamped down over my shoulders, and an odd, amber liquid began to fill the pod…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **The Remnants of the City**

"You good?" I called out as a near blinding light streamed through the doorway, the brown liquid slowly pouring out of the opening like syrup. Taking dizzy, uncertain glances at my surroundings as I fumbled my restraints, I noticed that as the liquid left, everything almost immediately dried behind it aside from a light sheen that reflected the low-power lights overhead.

I snagged my weapon from its frame and pushed myself out of the chair. It felt odd to be wielding a Multi-Tool again, especially a modded version of the weapon that saved my skin in the Garden, the one I'd replaced with the weapon Dea have given me soon after its defeat. Its strange yet familiar grip and heft brought memories flooding back into my mind, ghosts of the pasts, illusions of a time seemingly more pleasant than this one. I silently wished I could return to those times where things made a little more sense.

In my thinking, I didn't hear Beckham's reply. The first thing I noticed was suddenly being tugged forward and stumbling out of the pod just in time for a high-pitched whine to take over and suddenly a large shockwave to decimate the area, throwing us to the ground. Out of my stupor but disoriented, I looked around me for something that would tell me where we were, but there was nothing. Crumbled remnants of the Tower were scattered across the area, large sections of concrete and metal impaling the ground and casting dark shadows in the waning hours of the afternoon.

Disorientation subsiding, I picked myself off the pavement and grabbed my weapon by the barrel from its place about a foot behind me. "Are you alright Maximus?" Beckham asked. A thought seized me, froze me in place for several moments. It was the Traveler. I couldn't tell what it was saying, but there a tingle shivered down my back as, without moving my head, saw the Traveler in its broken glory, trying to shine as a beacon through the debris in the air and shadow below it. A faint glow seemed to encircle it, nearly choked by the shadows of the cracks that criss-crossed its surface. A hand shook my shoulder, and I shuddered back into the world once more. "Maximus," Beckham repeated, wrapping her arm under mine and pulling me to my feet. "Are you okay?"

Standing tall, I shrugged her off and adjusted my robe. I looked down at the weapon in my hands, turned it over in my hands, removed the magazine and reloaded it silently, pulling the bolt back and watching it snap back into place like clockwork, like machinery. Overhead, I watched more drop pods smash into the ground like meteors, spreading more dust and debris into the air all around the City. White-hot streaks painted the evening sky as I watched a dozen or so fall steadily towards the Earth. More explosions thundered in the distance, bundles of flame slamming into the meteors and the two combining in a glorious explosion of debris and plasma, metal shrapnel dotting the air like rain and falling to the earth below.

"We need to move," I declared, nudging Beckham's shoulder. Silently, she agreed, following me down the road a couple feet behind. "How far off were we from the drop zone?" This was definitely not Omolon. In fact, I wasn't a hundred percent sure where we were in the City. Everything looked deadly and dystopian, bent metal frames like claws waiting for an unfortunate soul to crush.

Beckham pushed her weapon on her back and flipped up a small panel on her forearm, a gadget I could only assume was a map. "Looks like we're a solid click and a half from it. A miracle if you ask me."

"What about the Queen's palace?" I asked, pausing at a corner, holding up a fist, and listening before she responded. When I was sure the coast was clear, I dropped the arm and continued down the way with my eyes on the next alley.

"That's at least another ten. Hard to get anything precise beyond just a couple."

"It's eleven and a half," Starco blurted in a slightly offended tone. "But thanks for asking."

"Anything _else_ the Ghost wants to insert?" Beckham queried to which Starco responded with a thought: _Not anything she would care to know._ I about spoke for him, but then something changed in my head, I could feel something in the distance, like the flash of a beacon being powered on. Just as it appeared, it dissipated as if it had never been there. Almost felt like a tap on the shoulder but in the mind, a small droplet spreading across a shimmering lake. "What was that?" I asked. Beckham stepped next to me and pulled out a sidearm, apparently believing that I perceived a threat.

Starco materialized next to me and hovered silently. "That was a Ghost," Starco whispered, retreating a few inches and turning to face Beckham and me. Another flicker. "I'm getting small bits of data. Hold on." We began to take a few cautious steps towards where I could've sworn the beacon was coming from, a pillar of smoke in the distance. "Dea," Starco began to translate. "Mission failed...EMP detonated...Ghost destroyed...need-I can't make out the rest. Strange, I could've sworn that was a Ghost sending the signal."

"Got any coordinates?" Beckham asked, switching her weapons back.

"They're coming from Omolon I think. The coordinates are broken, but I can make out enough of it to say they point somewhere in that vicinity."

"The Illusion'll be sending patrols if they haven't already," Beckham announced. "We need to move fast if we're going to respond before they find it."

An idea popped into my head. "How long do you think it'll be before they get here?"

"We're probably risking it just standing here. Ten minutes maybe given that we weren't the first pod or the nearest. Why? What are you thinking?"

I gestured to the buildings around us. One looked like it had held an apartment complex, mostly-shattered windows stretching four floors above our heads with crumbled brick behind it. With any luck, there would be a viable spot for one person to hide. On the other side, there was a similarly sized building but a little more intact at least from the same height as the crumbled one. "My guess is they'll come on Pikes probably in pairs or trios to search for us. If we hide in the building until they disembark, we can kill them, grab their bikes, and get to the beacon in a fraction of the time."

"I say it's a risk worth taking," Beckham stated. "Where do you want me?"

I gestured to the largely-intact building with my gun. "Second floor window near the center. I'll be up on the third floor if I can find a viable platform. Second floor if not. Keep the comms open. Ready?" She nodded and began to make her way to the building. Confident, I turned around and began to make my way to the building I thought stood the best ground but also stood the most unstable.

Upon a closer look, I noticed a sharp slant in it as I looked inside one of the windows. I marked each window with my weapon as I tried to find the best place to climb up. Inside, parts of the floor sagged in the semi-darkness while jagged bits of glass barbed the floor like razor wire. Choosing a path fairly flush with Beckham's route, I locked my weapon on my back and began to climb onto the sill, hauling myself onto the top ledge. When I got to the second floor, it, unsurprisingly, didn't fare much better than the first. The floor sagged a much more noticable amount and caved in several other places. The tile floor inside was cracked or missing altogether. Once more, I moved to the top ledge and grasped the bottom of the 3rd floor window sill. As I reached up, part of it crumbled in my hand, throwing my balance off just enough to consider jumping off and finding another approach. I latched the free hand onto a piece of sill next to its counterpart and steadied myself, tossing a glance over my shoulder and seeing Beckham scaling her building as well. Noticing my glance, she radioed, "Everything alright over there?"

I adjusted my grip and footing. "Weak spot on the building," I sent back.

"How's the interior?"

"Not much better on this side. Second floor was warped severely. Not placing high hopes on the third floor. Any news on yours?" I prepared myself to blink towards the next floor and grab onto whatever I could.

"Standard war-torn apartment complex I would say," Beckham mused. "Similar to what I've seen on….Shhh...you hear that?" I turned to the right, hearing the mechanical whir of a chorus of engines. "Fallen. We need to get inside now."

I let go of the sill and grabbed the frame of the window with my left hand and reared back my right. Throwing my hand forward, the air shattered like the glass. Careful not to cut myself, I slid inside and redrew my weapon, checking the immediate area for any sign of Fallen. Thankfully, I didn't find any of them, but what they lacked, the City made up for. "Got a few bodies here," I announced, looking over three crumpled bodies, crushed by a large wooden set of shelves. I paused over the set of shelves, deciding whether or not I should move them, but then I saw a small, blue hand poking out. "Oh…" I trailed off. Immediately, I turned away from it and began moving to another room, so I didn't soil their unfortunate graves. Rage tinged with sadness built inside me as I looked one last time at the tender fingers. Thankfully, the slant of the building kept the blood over pushed against the far walls, but it was not mystery where they were as the staining stretched across most of it.

I quickly exited the room and found one void of life and furniture. The image of the hand pushed into my thoughts again, unyielding and heavy. I found myself once again looking towards the room. I didn't know those people, but I couldn't help but blame myself for their deaths, take pity on deaths I had no right to mourn. Starco, equally appalled, tried to console me and use it as one of the reasons we fought, but it didn't change how I felt about it. Who knows how many of them had died?

Beckham's voice broke the silence but lost to the static. "Say again," I requested, knocking out the window in front of me and taking up a position. Across the way, I saw Beckham motion with her weapon from inside the building. "I'm in position," she reiterated. "But what was it you found? It broke up a bit."

"Three bodies," I stated flatly. "At least one was a child."

"That's messed up," she said glumly.

"Indeed," I sighed. "Let's keep our eyes on the prize and not let them die unavenged shall we?" She didn't say anything back, but she pressed herself against the wall and watched the streets in front of us. The engines grew nearer with each second, their echoes filling the void of sound. Earlier than expected, three figures emerged from the horizon, two Titans and a Hunter in various combinations of black, gray, and white. The HUD immediately highlighted each of them in orange, tagging each with a small exclamation point to the right. "Three confirmed Illusion," Beckham announced.

"I've got eyes on them. Switching the silencer on." Keeping my eyes trained on them, I pressed a button near the barrel. A long black cylinder flicked out and quietly clicked into place. "Pick your target."

The Titan dressed primarily in white suddenly went red. "Got the white one," Beckham selected.

I brought the scope to my eye and trained it on the other Titan, the one in carbon gray with what looked like the New Monarchy symbol in black and white draped off his right leg. "Got the other Titan." Its highlight turned red as well and replaced the exclamation point with a small X.

The three of them stopped and hopped off their long, streamlined vehicles. "Those aren't Pikes," Starco observed.

"Where'd they get the Sparrows?" I asked myself, crouching down next to the window keeping my mark.

"The grid went down here when the Tower fell," Starco answered. "My guess is they manufactured them in one of the foundries they took over." Starco was quiet for a moment. "Do you think we could get a better angle?"

"We're moving to your left to get a better angle," I relayed to Beckham.

"Confirmed."

I stood up and quickly moved down the hallway, steadying myself against its slope as I moved. I moved as far down as I could, peering into the last room before the collapsed section of this floor began, right as the slope became too much to stay upright against. The window in this one was already busted and its remnants scattered across the floor. I stepped cautiously around the barbs that hadn't slid over to the wall. "They've split up," Beckham informed us. "Your target en route to the first floor. Hunter is investigating the crash."

"Tell me if he starts scaling. My Ghost wants to see something with their Sparrows."

"Keeping an eye on him."

I turned the scope to the Sparrows in a triangular formation below us. "This angle work?" I asked quietly. They largely looked like normal Sparrows except that their design was sleeker than the usual ones, a little more rounded on the front and back. The seat was more hunched forward and had a small windshield about where the Guardian's head would go. Starco highlighted something on the back, a light blue and red logo with what looked like a slanted bird outlined in white. Below the insignia was three connected letters, "SRL."

"Those are prototypes from the Sparrow Racing League," Starco concluded. "They must've gotten into them when they invaded the Tower."

"Faster and more agile eh?" I had heard of the League but knew that it was only an experiment at this point, something Holliday had been working on in her spare time.

"Yeah. At the cost of your life," Starco added to my surprise. "Project got halted while we were investigating those rumors on Venus when two of the prototypes' cores overheated and detonated with the Guardians still on board.

"You don't want to risk it?"

"We don't have a choice this time. We'll have to risk it if we want to get to that beacon in time."

"Beckham?" I radioed.

"He's still investigating the bottom floor. He just passed the column of windows you're in."

"Thanks. Just an update for you. Those Sparrows are experimental tech that have a tendency to blow up."

"Noted. Will keep my aim off of them."

"Engage when ready. Keep it quiet." I quietly slid out of the window and steadied my aim with the window frame behind me, a couple shards pressing into me but thankfully staying in the window despite the discomfort. The Titan paused in front of a window and pushed the barrel of his long, Suros rifle through, sweeping it around silently. Satisfied it was empty, he pulled the gun and turned just in time for me to deposit two silent bullets into the back of his head. Immediately, I ducked back inside the building. "Titan down," I reported.

"Titan down," Beckham echoed a moment later. "Hunter is exiting the drop pod."

"Do you have a good shot?"

"Not one I'm comfortable making," she answered. "I'll try and get closer."

"Confirmed. I'm going to investigate my target. I think he might have something we could use." I put my weapon on my back and quietly slid out of window, jumping out and blinking towards the ground to minimize the noise. As I had expected, the Titan's armor wasn't nearly as filled now that the imposter wearing it had expired. It looked flat and sad rather than sturdy and rippling with power. Just to his right was the long, white and orange weapon he'd poked through the windows. I stooped over the course and picked up the gun, turning it over in my hands. A sniper rifle or at least a high powered scout rifle loaded in the middle. My eyes flicked over to the back of the belt on the imposter's armor. Opening a horizontal flap, I removed a white cylinder, a silencer. "Sitrep?" I asked, moving to the corner of the building and screwing the silencer onto the end of the rifle and then relieving the body of its ammuntion

Beckham whispered, "I'm tracking him. She's talking into her radio, probably trying to contact the other two."

I paused at the corner and pulled the scope close to my eye, leveling the dot in the center at the Hunter's forehead. "Got a shot?"

"About to take it. On 1." I pulled the bolt back and readied myself in case I needed to take action. "3...2...1…" she counted. "Crap!" Several cracks pierced the air as the Hunter dropped to the ground holding her leg and trying to stand up. Quickly, I moved the reticle just as her head picked up and squeezed the trigger, more cracks splitting the air like gunshots. A low rumble shook the air and ground as the building next to me began to shift and reach to one side. I dodged a large piece of debris and rolled under another as I darted out of the way. Clear of the collapse, I stopped myself and turned back to the crumbled building. Only the wind whistling through this ghost of a city remained. "Beckham, you alright?" Silence. I took a few steps toward the rubble. "Beckham? Do you copy? Shelley?" I looked over the mass of furniture, stone, and framework when a gloved hand shot out between a couple large pieces of stone.

"I'm...I'm over here," she coughed. I ran over to the hand and started to move a few of the stones out of the way, their weight feeling like nothing as I removed them. Finally, a white helmet shifted a few of the smaller pieces away from her. "What happened?" I asked.

Beckham wriggled her shoulders, shifting smaller pieces away as I pushed some of the larger debris to the side. "What you see is what you get. I don't know." Most of her upper torso free, I got behind her and hauled her up by the shoulders. "At least you weren't in the building when it went down. Is the Hunter dead?"

I looked back towards the pod and the Hunter's crumpled remains nearby, the armor, like the others, now sagging with the corpse of its imposter. "Yeah, I got him. Are you alright?" I took a seat next to her. I leaned out of the way as she windmilled her arms and bent her legs. The white in her armor was now scuffed fairly well in several places along with a heavy gash down the arm's plating. Overall, it gave her a dusty appearance those let the shinier parts of the armor that hadn't blocked the building magnify their light that much more. Much of my white robe had gotten dust all over it as well. I rubbed a gloved hand over the top of my helmet and saw the small grains of dust and ash flutter downward in the stagnant air. "I'll live, but the fight ain't over ju…ah crap." She looked down at the hole. I quickly realized what had happened. Just by looking at her empty hands and armored backplate. "Thought I'd come up a little light."

I grabbed the sniper rifle from my back and offered it to her as she double-checked her sidearm. "How's your aim with something meant for long range?"

She pushed the pistol back into its holster at her thigh and accepted the gun. "Better than something meant for mid-range." Beckham turned the gun in her hands and stood up, moving towards the sparrows just down the street that had just barely escaped the punishment of the building's instability. "Sounds like a plan to me," I responded. "Let's get to that beacon."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The Sparrows themselves handled just like the ones I'd used, and failed to master, in the past except for the fact they moved nearly twice as fast and were several times more sensitive. Before we set off, I tested the steering some, but that didn't prepare me for that initial jolt when I hit the accelerator. Beckham fared little better, falling off the back of hers and shouting, "How in the world do you people handle these things?" I shrugged as she dusted herself off and climbed back on. We started off slower, the accelerator much more sensitive to slight adjustments than I was accustomed to, but as we neared Omolon, I began to feel a little more confident on it, going near half of its top speed by the time we pulled into the much-destroyed foundry. The area frankly looked as if a battle had raged through it, but according to the reports, this had simply been where a bomb had gone off. The sleek design of the building more jagged and sharp than its usual cutting edge sheen. Now, it looked like it would cut you.

Suddenly, the beacon pulsed again, a hammer slamming against my head and causing everything to ring. "Starco?" I asked painfully.

"I felt that too," he confirmed. "Something's wrong with that signal. It shouldn't be doing that."

"Obviously," I groaned. "Where's the source? I don't know how much of that I can take before I lose it." Another hammer, a sound that sent me to my knees and drew the attention of Beckham while she stood ready.

"Got it," Starco announced before the next strike. "Location on your HUDs."

"Thank goodness." I whispered, pushing myself off my hands and knees. I turned to the sergeant as she swept the area with her sidearm. "You ready?" I asked, drawing my weapon. Beckham nodded and moved towards the hole that once was the door.

As we moved inside, the interior took on much of the same characteristics of its outside, jagged edges, disarray, and a complete contrast to its previous self. Bodies, Exo and humanoid alike, lay in various positions on the floor, sharing one commonality, death. The farther we delved into the walkways, on high alert for the slightest noise or movement, the less it was a foundry and more it became a graveyard. A graveyard of time, of dreams, of prototypes, and of the citizens themselves. The corridors felt like tombs and each flight of stairs we took as we went higher and higher in search of the beacon felt like yet another strike on our tombstones, a mausoleum once known as Omolon slowly being sealed up.

Beckham tapped me on the shoulder just before I mindlessly stepped through another door. Suddenly, the white diamond on my HUD disappeared, the beacon just on the other side of the door. I pushed a fresh magazine into the Multi-Tool as Beckham checked her sidearm. I adjusted the light on my helmet, making the circle of light a little bigger than what it was currently. "The pulses have stopped," Starco whispered into my head. "I'm not even picking up a trace."

"Starco lost the Ghost's signal," I relayed. "It may be too late for the Guardian."

"Too late to turn back now," Beckham commanded. "Time to at least confirm he or she has expired."

I took my position at the door and prepared to sweep the area. "On you." The sergeant grabbed the door's manual override with one hand and slowly pushed her pistol in as she slowly opened the door. Nothing stirred on the other side. Beckham let go of the door with her hand and reinforced her grip on the pistol, holding it at the ready as I followed her in. The room was mostly empty save for a large, broken cylinder of metal with fried and flayed wires draped across the floor where it stood near the center of the room. Otherwise, it was devoid of anything as far as I could see. Until it filled with a scream.

A black shape melted out of the shadows and swiped at Beckham, her scream piercing the air as she flew into the metal wall. The shadows piercing, yellow eyes set their gaze on me as I raised my weapon to fire. I squeezed a single bullet, one that soared harmlessly above its head, before I too flew back into a wall, disoriented but alive. "Maximus!" Starco screamed above Beckham. "Something isn't right." I rolled onto my side and pushed myself to my feet just as another shadowy blade sought to pierce me. I squeezed a pair of bullets off as I dodged yet again. Beckham stopped her yelling and staggered to her feet. I immediately regretted taking my eyes off the shadow as it suddenly gripped my arm, wrenched my weapon out of my hand, and threw me across the room. As I slammed my back into the wall, the lights suddenly roared to life, pops resounding through the room as I struggled to gather my wits about me and stop Beckham from charging straight forward, pistol firing as fast as her trigger finger could take it. From my position, I saw a flash of silver and green, and then a large splash of red that was quickly followed by two wet thuds hitting the ground in a syncopated rhythm. The war cry stopped. The pistol stopped. There was a flash in front of me, and a black diamond painted like the night sky materialized. A light blue eye stared into mine as I lay there struggling to move, helpless as it floated there. "Maximus," Starco whispered, starting to get smaller in my vision. Focusing only on my Ghost, I reached out with both arms and latched onto him, an immense force trying to pull me along with him as I struggled to maintain my grip. For a moment, I began to defeat it, Starco slowly coming towards my chest until my adversary doubled its efforts, let out a cry of rage, and I felt myself being lifted into the air again, Starco flying from my grasp into a vortex of purple and landing in a strong, gloved hand. "NO NO NO! Max!" he cried as he was ripped from my grasp. I watched his eye grow smaller and smaller in slow motion until the hand seized him. I pushed myself to my knees, trying desperately to get on my feet and run at the same time, but suddenly, everything exploded into a blur of fuzzy, pixelated images strengthened by the inferno that quickly razed all my presence of the world and in it. A fiery, empty void began to surround my mind as I struggled to recognize what was myself and what wasn't. Flashes of the past played in front of my eyes, the past year passing in what only was a couple opaque black ring seized my vision, a shadow dancing just at the edge of my vision, creating a tunnel that wasn't there but had existed this entire time. A void created in this moment destroyed another that had consumed me. "So this is what becomes of the Speaker," a chilling voice growled in front of me. Something awoke within me, something I hadn't felt since the second day that everything changed, since the Garden of flora and metal golems, where a heart of black fell to the light, a light that I now wielded. I thrust forward my hand and a cry as small shards decorated the floor...

responding to a Light that calls for the Black of Death.


	21. Bannerfall

**Chapter 20**

 **Bannerfall**

 **Arla Nublier**

 **7:17 pm**

Arla waited quietly in the shadows of the twilight, jaw and gun clenched in stress, fury, and fear. She'd been alone since the landing, the pod malfunctioning and killing one of her squadmates on impact while the other two had died in a failed ambush, one that had nearly cost Arla her own life. Quickly, they had become just another tick in the death toll, names that would long be forgotten in the sands of time as the truth slowly dawned on Arla, a truth that made her rethink what she was doing and why she was doing it, but two things remained abundantly clear in her mind: this was doing the right thing, and this was how it had to be.

Arla peeled an eye out of the alleyway and looked back at the street she had been walking for the last hour or so, marveling at the sheer amount of distance she had covered alone. Towering above her, she saw the Traveler in its broken glory, struggling to contrast itself with the night. Now nearing Traveler Square, she tried to find the glowing flower bed at its heart, but found no such glow on the horizon save for the palace beyond the other side. Traversing the Square was going to be the most dangerous part of this by far, no cover or backup. Something could be lurking in the ash laden grass, and she wouldn't be able to tell until it was too late.

Arla pulled back into the alley and double checked she hadn't been followed. Confirming where she was in the right place, Arla flipped up a small panel on her wrist that pulled up various versions of the City's map and scrolled through it until she found herself. Once more, she scrolled to the west and found Maximus' ping, his dot now alone and proceeding rather swiftly towards the palace. Several times she had thought of thought of trying to radio him but told herself that she was better off alone for this, at least for the moment. She had an objective to complete before she could attempt to cross the Square and move to the rally point outside of the palace. Checking the outside once more, Arla pulled out her pistol, raised it to the sky, and flipped the trigger, quickly soaring into the air and hauling herself onto the roof of the building. Silently she crossed the roof, looking for the access that would lead her into the dusty building below. For something so close to a large chuck of the Tower, this block was surprisingly intact, intact relative to what Arla had seen thus far. Most of the buildings on this road Arla remembered vividly, her runs through this part of the City and the Square allowing her to familiarize herself over the years. If it wasn't for muscle memory and the faint reminders of what these building once were, she would have likely passed them by without a second glance.

After a small amount of searching, Arla found the access panel she'd been looking for, an ancient-looking metal panel mostly camouflaged against the ash. "Aha," she whispered to herself as she opened the panel and slid through.

Despite all the time she'd spent in Starway's Diner, she had never ventured to the third floor, believing that she meant more to Harold as a customer of the restaurant than a guest in his home. Though, she couldn't help but shake the paternal affection he'd shown to her, the unyielding support in her shortcomings and high praises in her victories. As she walked towards the door that bared Harold's name, she couldn't help but feel a tad bit of shame disturbing his final place of rest. Reverently, she holstered her gun and opened the door. "I came as quickly as I could," she declared in a hushed voice, proceeding through the ingress.

The apartment was small and cramped, but for someone that dumped every resource he had into maintaining his business, Arla couldn't help but feel that this wasn't Harold's home, merely the place he slept. Home is where the heart is, and Harold's heart belonged to the restaurant he had fostered two floors below.

"We know you did," a voice answered in the kitchenette. Out stepped a woman in burnt orange armor with messy hair and tired eyes. Arla's eyes immediately fixed to the mustached man lying on the couch with his hands clasped gently just above his hips.

"Am I too late?" Arla whispered, fighting back tears.

"Passed away just a few minutes ago in his sleep," Charli whispered, moving towards the coffee table as Arla crouched down at the side of where he lay.

"At least he got the rest he deserved." Arla placed a hand on his forehead and felt the striking cold that was quickly taking over his body. After a moment, Arla pulled back her hand and buried her head in her arms. Charli bowed her head in silent prayer for a moment before reaching behind her back and pulling out a sheathed blade with a slip of paper attached to it. She quietly tapped Arla's shoulder, saying, "Harold wanted you to have this."

Arla, tears soaking her face, turned around and accepted the gift, unwrapping the slip of paper and unfurling it.

 **My Dearest Arla,**

 **I honestly want to apologize for what I have to tell you, but the fact that you're reading this means that the inevitable happened. As you are well aware, I hadn't been feeling well for quite some time and instead of doing what you thought was right, I did what I still believe was wrong: I lied. All those clean bills of health were just Martin scribbling nonsense on a datapad. Truth is, I never got better until today or whenever you wind up reading this note.**

 **Between when I write this and the day of my actual passing, I have no clue how much time will pass, and I know you're a constant busybody, that bit never changed in these last seven or eight years, but I want to leave you with two things. The first is the knife. I had some friends around town help me make it for you, so I hope it suits you well. I'm just sorry that I won't get to see you use it. The second thing for you is a poem, one of my personal favorites from centuries ago. I hope you are able to take its wisdom with you in these trying times. I'm confident that you'll get through this even if I do not.**

 **Do not go gentle into that good night,**

 **Old age should burn and rave at close of day;**

 **Rage, rage against the dying of the light.**

 **Though wise men at their end know dark is right,**

 **Because their words had forked no lightning they**

 **Do not go gentle into that good night.**

 **Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright**

 **Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,**

 **Rage, rage against the dying of the light.**

 **Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,**

 **And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,**

 **Do not go gentle into that good night.**

 **Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight**

 **Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,**

 **Rage, rage against the dying of the light.**

 **And you, my father, there on the sad height,**

 **Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.**

 **Do not go gentle into that good night.**

 **Rage, rage against the dying of the light.** (1)

 **Always by your side, even in parting,**

 **Harold Starway**

Arla read the note over and over again, tears flowing like rivers while she did, guilt for not being able to save him welling inside her. Despite the brave face she'd plastered on herself since confronting Maximus, Dea, and the rest of them in that odd room, Arla couldn't help but feel it eating away at her, softening the thick skin she'd built up over the years, an unseen armor that had been exploited increasingly so as of late. She felt older, especially now that she was mortal. She knew that at one point or another it'd be her time to go, to ebb into that final good night and become one with the sky and stars, touch eternity as she once had and enter it with the knowledge that it wouldn't leave again. Arla's hand gripped the knife harder. Until that time though, she knew she had to fight, fight until that last breath left her cold, dead corpse. Fight until either she was conquerer or among the conquered. Push these invaders back, so that they never would obtain that title, obtain the Great Machine they had sought all these years.

Arla sat up and pulled the knife out of the holster, a shining silver blade glinting the dim sunlight in the room back at her, the blade sharp enough to plunge itself into the observer merely by the eye catching its light. "Rage before the Night" was etched into each side of the blade, the red in each letter looking like dried blood. As Arla twisted the knife, flipping it in her hand she realized the blade was not actually silver, rather silver with a red tint, lighter than that of the letters. The lettering seemed to melt back into the blade at that angle, appearing as one, almost heated blade. Reverently impressed with the handiwork and subtle touches, Arla pushed it back into the sheath and attached the sheath on the right side of her belt. She felt its warmth, its rage, against her side, almost as if it were yearning to spill blood and forever stain itself. _In due time_ , Arla thought, standing up.

"You ready?" Charli asked with a light hand on Arla's shoulder. Arla looked over her shoulder at the now-helmed Titan and silently nodded, feeling the reassurance and promise in the solemn hand. She opened the wrist map and found Maximus' location, the dot unmoving for the moment. Zooming out, she found a total of about 36 active signals, much less than half of what Dea had launched. Before Charli saw, Arla flipped it back. "Let's get moving then," the Titan suggested, pulling her weapon off her back with one hand and tossing Arla's helmet with the other.

As they left, Arla couldn't help but notice the warzone that was the restaurant. Bodies of Fallen, humans, Exos, and Awoken, even a couple Guardians littered the floor in an absolute slaughter. "When the Tower fell, all hell broke loose," Charli started mournfully. "Brother against brother. Guardian versus Rogue. It was more of a free for all than anything. This was the only choice we had."

Arla drew her own rifle as they exited the now-missing front door and headed towards the square. "Harold decided to fight too?"

Arla could sense Charli's smile even beneath the helmet. "Probably one of the bravest men I've met. He kept them suppressed from the kitchen while I did most of the dirty work. For a lack of experience, he was a pretty good shot when he needed to be." The pair paused outside of the square, night firmly placing itself on the sky. "Where's the rally point?" Charli asked as Arla searched for the lights of the flowers once again.

"They didn't really talk about it," Arla realized after a moment of thought.

"That's not good."

"Maybe they were hoping Maximus would get some kind of revelation or something?" Arla posed with a shrug.

"Revelation? Like a prophet?"

Arla continued to scan the grass with the various visor settings. "Maximus is the new Speaker. According to Dea, he has been for at least a few weeks, but for some reason he either couldn't feel it or denied it."

"So something was different," Charli whispered. Behind them, an explosion roared, a building very close to where Harold was had just been obliterated. The Titan tossed a glance at Arla. "Funeral rites. Harold told me he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory while we fought. I figured I'd grant him that last wish. We probably should get going." Arla smiled to herself. _He always did have a flare for the dramatic._

Charli pushed a button on the side of her helmet. "Hey Roald, are they all ready?" She laughed to herself. "Yeah, I've got her. We're at the edge of Traveler Square just like you asked...side?" Charli looked around. "Uh...the side closest to that resta...there's a fresh pillar of smoke, maybe a few Fallen patrols."

Arla heard voices crackle into her comms and stopped adjusting the settings on her helmet. She held a hand on the dial on the side of her helmet as she listened. "...id you do Charli?" Roald Hendricks, an old friend snapped.

"I gave Arla's friend a proper send off. If Mars taught me something, it's that life is too short not to show some human decency," Charli argued.

Roald sighed. "No wonder you were a pilot," he muttered quietly. "Fine, whatever. Just get yourselves hidden until we arrive."

Using her fingers, Arla marked where the dials had been and pushed it back to the ever-silent comms channel for the Nine. "What're you listening to?" Charli asked, Arla feigning a startle.

She recovered her posture and said, "Nothing but the silent Nine comms. Haven't heard a peep out of them since I landed."

"That's a shame. We'll worry about that later. For now, we need to keep hidden until Roald gets here." Nearly dragging Arla, Charli hustled over to one of the buildings on a street adjacent to the new column of smoke, one that Arla could have sworn smelled like sizzling bacon as it drifted over.

"How many other Guardians are alive?" Arla asked, referring to Roald.

"As far as we have found? Twelve, so that makes fifteen of us still fighting."

"What about any Guardians from beyond Earth?"

Charli peeled open the door to a building that, like the others, had seen much better days, the windows shattered and glass spread about a dark floor, possibly a furniture shop at one point or another given the assortment of couches, chairs, and beds combining with the smell of wax mingling with synthetic leather. "Your drop pods are the first things to get through their air defenses, and we both know how many of those didn't make it through."

"What about Rasputin?" Arla wondered why the old man hadn't reacted to any of this.

Charli laid her gun against a china cabinet and leapt onto a bed. "Roald has two theories…" Arla set her gun next to Charli's but elected to keep her pistol drawn as she settled into a reclining chair. Charli propped her head with an arm. "One is the lack of comms beyond about a hundred meters is keeping it quiet. The other is that it's still reading an all clear or something that's preventing it from firing."

"I'm honestly glad it hasn't. When I saw the images, I knew something had happened, but I thought that someone had ticked off the Old Man again."

"Yeah," Charli sighed. "We wouldn't want to have another situation like Caesar." Whirring engines came from outside. "Looks like they're coming." She clicked back over comms, and Arla discreetly began listening in. "Is that you guys?"

"Yeah, we're incoming," an unexpected voice answered, one that caused Charli to sit up on the bed rather quickly.

"Maximus?" Arla blurted. "Where've you been?"

The steady whir of a Sparrow hummed in the background. "I got a little tied up at Omolon. Let's just say I don't fancy the other guy."

"Ouch. Where are you right now? Charli and I are waiting in that furniture store by Traveler Square for a group of Guardians that survived."

"We're just around the corner," Roald butted in. More engines began to echo through the empty streets before dying just in front of the entrance. "Made it."

The engines in Maximus' comms died out as well. "I'm just around the corner as well," he announced. "Would you mind one more?"

"For the Speaker? Anything," Roald replied. The door to the shop opened and in stepped a Titan in green and gold armor carrying a similarly colored hand cannon. "Come on you two," he called out as they picked up their weapons and moved towards the door. Arla hesitated for a moment, just now digesting what Roald had said before. Quickly, she looked for an excuse. "Hold up a minute," Arla yelled. "I dropped one of my knives."

"You need any help?" Charli offered, stopping and turning around as Arla went back to the chair she'd been sitting in.

"I've got it," she initially said, adding after a moment, "I think it just slipped into the cushion." The Huntress crouched over the chair and feigned fishing around in the cushion. "Maybe not. She retreated behind a large china cabinet, pulling out her pistol and the knife Harold had given her. She held the grip hard, preparing herself for what she had to do. _This isn't the real thing_ , she repeated over and over in her head. _We're not there yet._ Suddenly, everything crashed around her and threw her to the floor. Guttural cries screeched over the an explosion of sound until one word rang out over the others: "AMBUSH!" Heavy boots ran across the store as Charli called out, "I'm coming Arla!"

Just as the boots reached their loudest, Arla threw herself forward into Charli, knocking them both to the ground and tumbling into a chair. Gunshots echoed out of the doors, and Arla, suddenly finding herself staring down the barrel of Charli's weapon, knocked it to the side just as she squeezed the trigger, several bullets depositing themselves into the floor just to her right. While Charli was off balance, she made a quick punch at the magazine, a sharp crunch and click ringing out as the magazine bent outward. Undaunted, Charli twisted the weapon back and launched the stock at Arla's face, barely missing and slamming into the ground.

Arla twisted her body and positioned herself on top, drawing a knife and preparing to plunge it into the burnt orange armor. Two firm hands gripped the knife and pushed it back towards her, both straining at the effort. More cries of battle raged outside as Arla battled back. Charli shifted beneath her, and suddenly the Huntress found herself scrambling off her back, crawling towards the pistol she had dropped moments before. A hand cannon burst into the floor as Arla shuffled to her feet and swept up the gun, another one burying itself into her shields and collapsing them on impact. Stumbling a couple steps backward as she regained her balance, a third shot whizzed past her with only centimeters between her and death. Seizing an opportunity, Arla snatched a thin knife from her belt and threw it as hard as she could.

Charli, with a swift flick of her hand cannon, simultaneously blocked the knife and dispatched the spent capsule. Arla rolled to the side between two wardrobes and threw one to the ground as she dashed for cover. Another bullet split the air next to her, her shields and breath finding the momentary ability to recover as it deflected off of something nearby. Arla switched the mode on her pistol, a second barrel sliding open with a small protrusion snapping forward. "Eat this you poser," she muttered to herself. She leaned out just in time for another bullet to pummel the shielding at the head. Her head snapped back painfully, but Arla deftly used the backwards momentum to roll herself to a kneeling position and pull the trigger. A cord quickly spooled out of the the lower barrel as Charli looked at her chest. Bracing, Arla released the trigger and pushed it forward, the line snapping taught and yanking an unwilling Charli towards her. As the Titan flew, she flipped the switch again, depositing a pair of bullets in her adversary and releasing the tension in the cable. Arla dropped the pistol just as she arrived, burying her other knife deep into the helmet with the momentum and driving the corpse onto the ground. Purplish-green blood oozed from the head would, and "Charli" moved no more.

The Huntress knelt there for a few more moments, waiting for something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Nothing in the store moved except for herself and the puddle slowly growing around her. Arla slowly retracted the knife and wiped the blade before placing it back in its sheath. _That wasn't Charli_ she repeated as she picked up her other knife, weapon, and moved towards the now-silent door outside.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Voidwalker Maximus**

 **8:31pm**

Arla shuffled out of the store visibly shaken that much I could tell. As I looked at the bodies around me, many of them deflating or stretching vertically as their Fallen bodies couldn't fit the Guardian armor unassisted. Her steps were slow and calculated, not covering much ground but showcasing a lot of thought as she maneuvered around shards of glass or other debris. Once she passed through the blown apart ingress, she slumped to her knees with her eyes to the ground. "What do you even want?" Arla whispered seemingly to the wind. "What is there for you to take? What is there for us to defend?" An explosion echoed in the distance. When I turned back my gaze, Arla was staring dead at me, her face behind the visor begging an answer. "The Traveler. You want the Traveler," she continued. "A broken machine that hasn't done anything meaningful for at least a century. You embarked on a crusade to save something that can't protect those around it...that can't even save itself." Arla gave a melancholy chuckle. "At this point, I just feel like giving it to you. You've killed thousands, injured more, and displaced the rest all for a broken machine that we don't even know." Arla pushed herself to her feet. "When it's put that way, it makes us all sound crazy doesn't it? Like we stepped off the deep end?" She chuckled a little harder, her voice closer to its normal volume.

"I've slain your kind by the Ketch-ful," she shouted, throwing a hand towards the store. "Pulled the trigger and ended their miserable existences in the name of a cause I thought I believed in, but you know what? In the end, it doesn't matter. You Fallen would continue to throw yourselves at us until the end of time if you could, make yourselves a martyr for a god that abandoned you just like we would. As someone who's spent a fair amount of their afterlife on constant guard, I can tell you this: it doesn't care. A dead god sees nothing, does nothing. There comes a point when you realize that if you're going to accomplish anything in life before you die, you have to find your own purpose, blaze your own trail." Arla raised her left hand and looked at something metal in it.. "I've decided my purpose," she declared, her voice returning to the near whisper it had been. In a sharp motion, her right hand shot up and drew a golden hand cannon. "I'm going to kill every last one of you." With a flick of the wrist, the grenade shot forward, and Arla's figure ignited in a bright orange. She fired once into the building, the shot and its resonating heat lighting the cloth and wooden materials inside. She immediately followed it with another to the opposite side of the building. Finally, she turned to the orange grenade flying through the air. The final shot rang out, with a massive explosion in tow that made me shield my eyes. Arla, now doused in a flickering silhouette, spoke again. "What was it you said, imposter? 'Go out with a bang?'" She let off a maniacal chuckle. "I hope you burn."

I remained motionless, stunned. Her words chilled me to the core; it was like she had lost it, or that she was right. Even though I was now connected to the Traveler, I knew its one desire, the one thing that it yearned for more than anything at this point. It had tried to solace me, saying everything would be alright, but the truth said that nothing was going to be the same again. Even if the Illusion were to pack up and leave right now, nothing would return to the status quo. The Tower was a large section of the wall that no longer existed. Much of the City would have to be rebuilt.

A tap came at my shoulder. "Maximus, you ready?" Dea asked. I turned around and saw the her in flexible yet sturdy armor, her usual standard of dress and hood exchanged for battle garb. I replaced the magazine in my weapon and said, "I don't think Arla is. You think she's lost it?"

"This wouldn't be the first time she's gone off the deep end," Dea warned.

"Her family's Wolf. Yeah, I remember the story," I agreed.

Dea nodded. "This would make it double duty. I think the Illusion knew about her connection to Harold, knew she was vulnerable and would probably come her way. I still find it strange that they would send a patrol of just Guardians."

I looked at a couple of the bodies that surrounded me, a number far less than what had been there before the Nova Bomb. "They're crafty I'll give them that. Were you able to find anything on our imposter friend...before Arla torched the place?" I glanced at her still staring at the fire. I felt the sudden urge to get moving, but I convinced myself that we were in just as much danger standing here as we would be riding across the Plaza or hoofing it.

"She didn't give me much time, but yeah. This one was a rather high ranking Vandal from the looks of it. Found this in a pocket on her belt." Dea held up a small, black chip with a white edge. "Looks like it switched her comms chip while she was paying her respects."

I pulled off my helmet for a second and switched my own chip back to the original. Upon putting it back on, they crackled for a second or two, but, beyond that, they remained the same eerie silence they'd been since the Illusion figured out a way to hack in. I handed Dea the Fallen chip. "That's cold," I muttered. "Characteristic of them. But still cold." The wind began to pick up, sweeping through the abandoned roads and whistling through the spaces in the buildings.

"I think winter came early this year," Dea observed.

"This winter has been coming for a long time," I responded. "The Vanguard and Speaker were just doing what the older Vanguards had taught. Same with those before them: fight today, so that we have a tomorrow. Delay the inevitable. This winter is late if nothing else."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Traveler Plaza was silent aside from the wind, a gale that muffled any footsteps, friend or foe. We passed through the shadow that now draped it, another shadow beginning its descent on the City and joining its long-lost brother.

The closer we traveled to the Queen's palace, the better off our surroundings faired. It still looked like a warzone, but the amount of dust and destroyed blocks dwindled until streets were just outright dirty, people annihilated rather than entire streets razed. That was when we ran into the patrols we'd predicted. It was probably about ten people or so, quite literally civilians with guns walking down the street with little to no body armor. Dea quickly led us to the top of the building before the group could see or hear us. As they marched on, we payed them no attention, instead looking for their "Guardian" protection.

I looked from building to building, scanning each one for heat signatures or something that would give away their position. Neither of the others had any luck. A man up front with a Suros rifle halted the group and said something that was lost in the wind. The group began to disperse, poking through the buildings nearby and shouting to each other. I kept my eye on that man, scanned him to confirm my suspicion. "I think they primed the volunteers with their own troops," I posited. "The leader is disguised."

Dea turned her eyes to the leader as well, confirming what my scanners saw. "Probably a low-ranking Vandal. Let me see if I can find their comms frequency. Keep looking." I shifted over to the corner of the building and perched myself against the ledge, watching the group slowly rally back to their de facto leader. Moments later, two more of the militia turned orange. "Got two more," Dea announced.

"Quality control I bet," Arla muttered. "When things go south, they're probably supposed to kill the group." After a moment of silence, she added, "Or at least the ones who panic."

"They're all civilians with no experience in battle," Dea offered. "Two things are gonna happen. They'll try and die like heroes or flee in terror. We're not going to let either of them happen." She pulled a grenade off of her belt, it was thinner and more cylindrical than the others she carried. "Gas potent enough to knock 'em out for a while."

"Why knock 'em out when we could kill them?"

"We need to minimize civilian casualties," Dea reasoned. "Look, I won't stop you after I gas them, but just as you said, the moment everything goes awry, their escorts will come out of the shadows and kill them."

Suddenly, a shot rang out, and one of the men in the group dropped dead. Screams and shouts for help and cover split the air as several more shots rattled through. "Find them!" I yelled, sweeping my weapon from side to side, trying to locate the source. Arla rattled off several shots, the marked Fallen going dark.

"Spread out!" Dea ordered above the chaos. I quickly slung my weapon to my back and leapt onto the adjacent building, one that was a few feet lower than the original. A momentary glance downward, once I hid in the far corner, showed a third of the men and women lying dead in the streets. Taking cover on the building, a bullet punched through the concrete next to me, causing me to take a step backward and lean further into cover in hopes that it was an errant shot.

"Bring it on!" Arla shouted from the original building. I looked up just in time for her to fire her grappling hook straight into a "Huntress" dressed in purple and red. The Fallen, stunned by pain and surprise, suddenly found a throwing knife sticking out of its face, Arla retracting the hook, and in one swift motion while the body hurtled towards her, grabbed the knife and used her shoulder to toss the imposter off of the roof, onto the street below. Suddenly, she turned in my direction and fired again, the hook burying itself a foot to my left. With a powerful jump, Arla hurtled head first towards me. Unsure of what she was doing, I rolled out of the way, and in that time, a Warlock in blue and yellow armor vaulted onto the roof just for Arla to bury her shoulder into it. The two went over the edge of the roof, and I sprinted to the ledge out of fear for the worst. A sharp crack echoed out of the alley as they hit the ground, Arla on top. With a quick stab of her knife into its helmet and a reverberating war cry, that imposter met its bloody end. She pulled herself off of the body and plopped herself down behind a nearby dumpster.

Suddenly a bullet hit the side of my helmet, tossing my head to the side enough to deflect a second that would have gone straight through the facemask. Across the street was a Titan in red and black armor, heaving a grenade. "Titan across the street!" I reported, ducking behind the ledge in time for another pair of bullets to split the air over my head. Several more shots smashed into the building, several cutting through the damaged concrete around me and some of them pushing through a little too close for comfort.

I pulled up with my eye down the sights of my weapon, watching for the marker for the Titan. When he popped up next, he had moved a few feet to my right, but, by then, three shots of my own shattered the facemask and dropped him. "Titan down."

"Two down," Arla stated, out of breath. "Last one got me a little more than I'd anticipated." I heard the hook shoot into the wall next to me, and Arla vaulted over the ledge moments later.

"You good?" I asked without looking, still scanning the area for "Guardians" and purposely missing the civilians below.

"I'll live," she said, lightly tapping my shoulder. I took the reprieve and shoved another magazine into the Multi-Tool.

"Alright," Dea chimed in. "Popping gas. Switch to the reserves." Arla ducked behind the ledge as well, tossing the spent mag over the ledge and maneuvering a new one into the slot. Below, I heard the small _tink_ of light metal bouncing on concrete followed by a sharp hiss. A white mist began to fill the air, quickly clouding everything in a dense smokescreen. Shouts of confusion and loud bouts of coughing filled the streets until the cloud was about as high as the roof we were on. In accidental sync, Arla and I switched to the reserves of oxygen in our suits, a small chuckle coming out of us both. Dea called out over our local radio, "Arla you've got overwatch. Maximus, on me." I shrugged to Arla and leapt over, blinking closer to the ground to limit my impact.

I couldn't see much on the street other than what was immediately in front of me and the white gas. A small message about limited targeting capabilities flashed on the top right of my HUD. Dea held up a fist. "You hear that?" she asked. Nothing stirred the air. Slowly, the gas began to clear, showing the numerous bodies of dead and unconscious littering the ground. Living or not, they all looked like rotting corpses, most of their clothes, hair, and other features run ragged with the most recent events. Most of them probably ran who knows how far away from the falling Tower and debris, from their impending doom only to track right back to the carnage.

"I don't," I whispered.

We continued to tread slowly and lightly through the street, Dea on alert for something in the distance. "We've got another patrol," she announced over the comms. "Sounds like they're using more of those sparrows you found."

"Better for us." I concluded with a sigh. "Save us the bullets." Dea stopped just before we entered the intersection at the end of the road. "Arla?"

"I'm here. Haven't seen anything since the gas cleared," she reported. "No sign of any sparrows either."

Dea kept her hand on the side of her helmet, like she was listening for the sparrows while talking to Arla. Suddenly, her head snapped to the side. "Cover now," she ordered, redrawing her weapon. We slipped into the slowly growing shadows of the night. Now, I could hear the faint whir of the sparrows, nearly inaudible and made even moreso by the slight wind. "Arla they're coming your way," Dea relayed. "Stay hidden." The patrol cruised by us, almost a blur, but I felt something yank me back in their direction, a bad feeling stirring in my gut. Dea tossed a glance at me. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Saving her life," I said, sprinting out of our hiding place and dashing after the patrol. Dea tried to swipe a piece of the road but a quick flick to the right and a small push off the wall left her with nothing but air. As I ran, I would blink as soon as I could, covering ground much faster alone than I had with the group and keeping the patrol just within my line of sight. The fire I'd felt so many times, seen manifest itself in my darkest hours, the last drops of the Traveler's Light, began to ignite. Each blink began to cover more ground. My legs churned faster. My eyes seemed hyper-focused on everything around me. A faint white glow began to surround me. The black of night became clear as day.

A thought flickered through my mind. I saw myself in the air, rearing a punch behind one of the Guardians driving. The sparrows' engines were slowly growing louder as I approached, the light around me growing brighter with every step. I planted a foot on the ground again and blinked once more. In a flash of light, I was suddenly over a sparrow rider. With the snap of my wrist, the sparrow veered to the left and careened into its partner just as I hit the ground and rolled off the momentum. The tangled metal and "Guardians" flipped and crashed hard into the ground, exploding in a glorious firework.

I stood and dusted myself off, checking my weapons were still on my back. "Two sparrows down," I radioed. Somewhere down the road, I could hear more engines. "I'm hearing two more."

"I've got a pod of them!" Arla shouted, gunfire echoing in the background. "Counted five. I need some help."

"I'm on the way," I answered, picking up the pace again. Gunshots pierced the air, streaks, flashes, and chunks of dirt, stone, and asphalt spraying out of the ground or falling out of the building like small geysers of destruction. I eyed the glow slowly surrounding me, feeling a new power, the very one that I felt in Omolon, stirring within me, an almost literal fire that I could mentally harness and push into my arms and legs, every move deliberate, my senses on high alert. It was almost as if I could feel the essence of life itself. I could see the group much clearer now. Ten "Guardians" pinning Arla on top of a building not far from where she'd been watching over us. I had to buy her some time to escape. Suddenly, one reached for its neck and toppled forward, a new sound, one I hadn't heard since Venus, since I met Dea there and learned of the Black Garden. As it fell forward, fire erupted starting at its neck, enveloping its silent corpse until it became a pile of ash. The pod began to fan out, a couple of them tuning to search for the mysterious shooter, Dea, who had taken a position in the buildings across the street. "Arla," she shouted. "Get out of here now! We'll buy you some time." Arla popped up and let off a couple more shots, striking a Hunter in the leg but otherwise missing.

I clenched a scatter grenade, jumped, and threw it right at the running feet of a pair, the air around them sparking and exploding until they lay lifeless. Another shot rang out, toppling another Fallen. I drew my weapon and narrowly avoided some incoming fire. I rolled beneath a couple more and came up on one knee, leveling the sights and shattering the faceplate of a Titan with two quick pulls of the trigger. Just as I pulled up, someone got a lucky shot into my shoulder and thigh, knocking out my shields and forcing me to dash toward the buildings. Shields recovered, I leaned out and let loose a couple more rounds, suppressing a Warlock as he tried to lock down Dea's position. "Rifle charged. I'm back in," Dea announced. I ducked out to let loose a few more shots, but the gun clicked without a bang. Immediately, I pulled back in. "Got a jam!" I called out.

"There's a chamber release on the top." She fired her rifle. "Pull open the access and pull the bolt back. The jam should be forced out." She shot again. "Gun recharging."

I opened the access just above the bolt and yanked it back. A steaming, hot bullet flew out and clattered to the ground. As a precaution, I swapped the clip and closed everything back up, shouting, "Back in!" I pulled out of cover just in time to see the final "Guardian" heft a rocket launcher to his shoulder and fire. Just as she pulled the trigger, its helmet exploded into a thousand shards. Time crawled as I shot a pair of errant bullets at the rocket, missing wide as it careened into the building. "Arla!" I felt myself shout.

One scream drowned out everything else as I saw a body fly alongside the charred debris.

I dropped my weapon and sprinted forward, blinking with my arms open to catch her. The flash of the blink cleared... Arla several feet below me, smacking into the asphalt hard, her beat up helmet flying off on impact. "Arla!" I shouted again. I planted my feet and dashed back the other way, sliding on my knees to where she lay in a crumpled heap. Blood seeped through several bullet holes all over her torso and arms. Shrapnel pierced other parts of her as she just stared into oblivion. "Dea come in," I said, applying pressure to the larger wounds in an attempt to stem the bleeding. "Dea come in now. Arla's bleeding out. We need one of those shots." Blood continued to slip through my fingers as I continued to do my best. "DEA!" I shouted. "GET OVER HERE NOW" I looked away from her wounds to see her glowing green eyes, slightly unfocused, staring through my helmet right into mine. A shaky hand rose, touching my helmet, pushing on it as if to take it off. I gently set down her hand and unceremoniously yanked off the helmet, fruitlessly reapplying the pressure. "You're going to be fine," I reassured her. "Dea's coming with the shot. We'll get you fixed up in no time." I moved to pick her up, but she placed her hands on my arms, continuing to stare at me.

"No," she whispered, her voice distant and wispy. "No...shots." Her breathing was labored and uneven. "I've lived...my life, twice over." She took another breath. "And I wouldn't trade it...for anything. I'm...proud of you Maximus. You'll make a fine Speaker." She reached a hand to my face as the color quickly drained from hers. "I'm just sorry I won't get to see it."

"Don't talk like that," I said, grabbing her hand and placing it back on her slowly darkening chest. I turned and yelled as loud as I could, not caring if the Fallen could here me. "DEA WHERE'S THAT SHOT?!"

Arla raised her hand again, the shaking much worse, the arm much weaker. "No, Maximus." A weak smile pushed its way across her face. "My time is up." She sucked in a breath, clearly struggling. "I know you'll do the right thing. It's what you do best." Her hand caressed the side of my face. "From here, the stars," she whispered.

"No!" I denied.

Her eyes widened, the focus drifting but still maintaining that piercing gaze she kept. "From here, the stars," she repeated.

I stared back, saying nothing initially but then muttering, almost inaudibly, "From here, the stars…"

I looked down and saw myself at the cosmodrome again, a wounded Huntress in a torn, brown cloak with gashes across many of the same areas. I remembered lifting her into the ICU. I remembered the battle at the Wall, her blood dripping onto the floor out as we flew off victoriously. I remembered the baseball games, the Devil's Lair, and the shadows. Once more, I saw the trials of the Black Garden, the endless wandering through its canyons and catacombs. I saw the Heart of Darkness and felt the evil radiating off of it. I saw it explode. I saw Arla tackle me in the ship right after, tears flooding her eyes as she screamed, "We did it! We did it!" I could almost feel her embrace as we huddled on the metal floor of the ship for what felt like forever. The memories melted back into the present. Arla's hands tightly clasped mine as I watched her. I looked down our entangled hands, using my thumbs to stroke hers. I looked back into her eyes and saw the sharp smile that I swore had always been there even in the darkest of times, a smile that spread across her face long enough for her to say, "I love you Maximus." Then, her head dipped back, and the glow faded from her eyes, one final breath escaping her lips. "From here, the stars," I repeated.

A new silence swept across the street, the wind going deathly still. I knelt there with her hands weakly clasping mine. I raised a mournful hand and closed her eyelids, sliding her head off of my lap and gently laying it on the road, but I didn't move after that. Instead, I did something I never thought Exos were capable of:

I cried.

Credit: "Do Not Go Gently into That Good Night" by Dylan Thomas, published in 1951.


	22. Guardians

**Chapter 21**

 **Guardians**

 **10:47 pm**

While I wasn't sure where to bury Arla, I was not going to leave her in the street. She'd sacrificed too much to be left as carrion. After spending several minutes fruitlessly thinking of ways to honor her passing, Dea walked up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "And where have you been?" I spat.

"The ship called in for a status report, and I didn't hear you calling," she said solemnly, not buying her own lie. "If it makes things any better, the suits have will self-destruct soon enough. We don't need to bury her." Dea crouched beside me, putting away her weapon. She looked at Arla's now-peaceful body, her hands still clasping one of mine. "Look, a nanoshot wouldn't have done her any good," Dea admitted with a sigh. "She'd lost too much blood from the bullet wounds. I'm still sorry though. I truly am. I didn't want anyone to die, but unfortunately sacrifices have to be made for something of this magnitude. I've lived a thousand lifetimes, and the cuts get deeper every time. That's why you keep fighting." She threw an arm across my shoulders. "Come on. We have a job to do, or she dies in vain." With that, she stood up and began talking over the radio, but I didn't hear her. I remained in my own thoughts, reflecting on the good and bad of my relationship with Arla. I could see now what she went through when I'd been buried under the rubble. I felt the heartache, the sadness, the overwhelming urge to lie down and face a similar fate, but something more divine pushed its way into my head, consoling me slightly, but ultimately occupying my mind enough to digest this new reality. Gently and respectfully, I loosened my hand from her grip and unlatched her pistol and knives, attaching them to me and then clasping her hands together across her chest. "I love you too, Arla," I whispered with a hand on her forehead. Finally, I let go and walked back to the dark area I left my weapon in, grabbing it and then walking back to one of the untouched sparrows stashed on the side of the street. I secured my weapons and hopped on. "You ready?" Dea asked, handing me my helmet.

I powered up the sparrow, feeling the power of its engine beneath me. "It's time for E.T. to go home," I shot back.

"I like it," Dea said, a tinge of excitement in her voice. I gunned the throttle and made my way directly for the palace.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The palace wasn't terribly far from where we were, but we knew we were getting close when the spires peeped over the buildings, but oddly enough, nothing shot at us. Ahead we saw a few armed figures standing outside of a makeshift checkpoint. I prepared myself to draw Arla's pistol and grapple away and hide above them, but as we drew closer, I realized that these armed figures were dressed in the same white uniforms that Dea wore. My helmet scanned them from afar, marking them as green allies, a fact that surprised me. "They took the palace?" I asked Dea.

"No, but they took the gate and courtyard," she responded. "We encountered the only patrol our agents saw leave the palace. Aside from a few missteps, we're right on time."

"Then what was all that mess back there?"

Dea chuckled. "That? That was an inexperienced commander getting impatient. The Illusion's Kell went off world. Scanners picked up a cloaking signal around Meridian Bay on Mars, but then it just disappeared."

"He's going for the Black Garden." Dea and I stopped at the checkpoint and hopped off the sparrows.

"Precisely." Dea turned to one of the guards. "What's the situation Torres?"

A tall soldier carrying his helmet at his side handed a datapad to another, turning and walking towards Dea and me. "Not good, ma'am," he said with a salute. Dea returned it. "The Illusion have holed up inside the palace and sealed the doors."

"What about the civilians?" She nodded to the soldier atop the wall operating the gates. A piece of the wall that surrounded the palace raised, revealing a grisly scene inside. The main courtyard traditionally had been a well-kept green space with a few sidewalks cutting the grass into much more manageable sections. Several beds of flowers would grow in the center of these patches for passersby to enjoy, but all of that was gone. In its place was death rather than life. Soldiers in white pulled bodies from the ashen ground. Blood salted the soil, and much of the green grass was brown with death or black with char. What once had been a shining beacon of elegance and beauty had become yet another dismal mark on a war torn landscape.

Upon the gates lifting, Dea's eyes widened, and she grabbed Torres by the collar. "I thought you said you had this under control," she questioned. She flung a hand towards the squads cleaning up the mess. " _This_ is not under control. What happened?"

Torres walked through the gates with Dea and me in tow. "We kept to the shadows like you told us to, but after we'd dealt with most of their guards…" He stopped, the words gathering in his mouth clearly bothering him. "They sent children rigged with explosives."

Dea swore in disbelief while I said nothing, shame and sadness the only things I felt. I knew that they were cruel, but those tactics were unethical. Then again, I never took pirates to be the ethical type, especially when they were trying to rid themselves of an entire civilization. "How many did we lose?" Dea asked after an ensuing stunned silence ended.

"The children ignored us when they were released...ran right to their families. The few remaining civilians have already been extracted per your orders." Dea immediately shot him a glare that probably could have killed him on the spot.

I stepped in. "What do you mean, 'extracted?' I haven't seen any ships flying around here." It sounded angrier than I had intended.

"Don't worry about it," Dea shot, continuing that glare. She pulled away her squinted gaze and said, "They're safe, and that's all that matters. How many more do you think they have?"

This man was extremely disturbed at the moment, his press-forward attitude only a shallow facade. Seeing things like that would change a person, something Arla told me several times when we discussed her time with the Awoken military. Those ghosts haunted her from time to time, appearing in her dreams every so often, especially after a hard day. She never really talked about them, but after the Black Garden ended, they returned fiercely. I recommended that she take some time off, but she found some mental solace in that Heksis fellow. Even now I was suspicious of him, and, as far as I knew, he escaped Dea's ship before anything happened, going who knows where. I wouldn't be surprised if we opened those doors and found ourselves staring down the ends of his hand cannons or battling against him hand-to-hand.

Torres seemed to sink away from his own being, his eyes glazing over like that of the living dead. "There's no telling," he relented. "That definitely wasn't all of them."

"Well, we're wasting time. Prepare your men to breach," Dea ordered. "Maximus, we're leading this. You think you've got a Nova Bomb in you?"

I nodded and followed her towards what looked like a makeshift cache of supplies. A few of the soldiers saluted us as we walked by. She returned a couple of them half-heartedly and exchanged a few words with a woman holding a datapad while I stood a few feet away with my arms crossed, eyes on the ornate and dusty doors that shielded the palace. I didn't think about what was inside, didn't want to. Instead, I simply stared and came to grips with what I was going to have to do again, where I was going again, and what I may have to ultimately give up. I was ready if that was the case. I lost pretty much everything I cared about in the last couple days. If I were human, I probably would have lost it, and that's probably a very conservative estimate.

I snapped my head up at the sound of me name. Dea was calling from a metal crate with a pair of triangular objects in her hands. I jogged over and caught the flying pieces when she threw them a moment later. "Time to load up," she announced. "This is it."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **The Queen's Private Chambers**

 **11:02 pm**

Gone was the exquisite interior of the room. The cedar table now lay broken and pushed off to the side, fabric curtains ripped off their rungs and tossed into the corner of the room, a large metal plate welded onto the window blocking out the night. Artificial light baked the room, the air stained with sweat and ringing with shouts in a tongue foreign to any besides the Fallen. Zavala stepped through the ornate doors and shut them unceremoniously, grunting in distaste as he joined the Queen and his fellow Vanguards at the table. Each of them looked stressed and exhausted, annoyance swimming across their faces as they sat around a holographic projection of the battle occurring around the City. Presently, it was zoomed in around the palace. A few red markers on the outside of the barricade indicated there were events beyond the courtyard, but none of the Vanguard nor the Queen paid them any mind.

"What's the status?" the Queen, Vulkra, demanded.

"There's only two here," Commander Zavala, Klim, responded. "The Warlock and the Agent."

Vulkra's face snapped from fatigue to suspicious confusion. "What do you mean there's only two? There were supposed to be three. The Warlock, the Agent, and the Huntress! Where did the Huntress go?!"

Cayde, Kelpat, rose from his chair. "Calm down Your Highness. She'll come. We just have to wait. It's all of our heads on the table, not just yours."

Klim turned away from the door and stood by the table with his arms crossed. "You need to have faith in your troops. Like Kelpat said, she'll come."

"If she doesn't, then this is on you Zavala. That was your team that got themselves killed."

He leaned over the map. " _My_ team following _your_ orders _,_ Vulkra," he clarified, emphasizing his lack of command.

The Queen returned the hateful glare he was shooting. " _My_ orders based on _your_ intel," she spat, the final words falling dead at the door. Zavala continued to grimace, but eventually took his place around the table. The Queen sent a steely gaze at each of the Vanguard, the temperature in the room seeming to drop several degrees. "Now if there's any more dissent in the room, you can take all grievances up with my gun. We have a battle to win and bickering won't solve anything, especially while the Commander is off sealing our victory." She paused for a moment, but no one said a word. "Good. Now Klim, I want you to reroute one of your patrols and tell them to search for the Huntress in the vicinity of her final transmission…" She moved the map away from the palace momentarily and highlighted a road near Traveler Plaza, the furniture store. "...She's likely on foot…" A notification nearby diverted her attention. "What's this?"

"What's it look like?" Klim grunted sarcastically. "Another squad wipe. The Agent and Warlock were reported to be behind that one. Looks like ordinance was used too…"

"Change of plan," Vulkra announced. "Get a team over there immediately." Klim opened his mouth to speak, but Vulkra denied him that luxury. "Don't question it. Get a team over there, or I'll kill you after I do it." He shot daggers at her as he exited the room.

Ikora, Thuzia, waited until the door shut before she opened her mouth. "Why do you think the Huntress is there?"

"Because," Vulkra began, pushing the map back to the palace and then straightening herself with her arms clasped behind her back. "They rescued Arla, and I think that's where they lost her."

"I thought you wanted her alive?" Kelpat asked.

Vulkra nodded. "No, _I_ don't _want_ her alive. _We_ _need_ her alive. Which is why I hope I'm wrong…" Suddenly, shouts and cries echoed through the hallways outside. The entire palace shook as something nearby shattered the air in an explosion of sound…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Stay out of the open!" Dea ordered to our small team of four as a volley of shots from the sniper nest smashed into the side of the palace. Each soldier, battered and bruised physically and mentally from the day's assaults, returned back with a swift and sharp "Yes ma'am!" as they fanned out, taking cover in the alcoves or behind some concrete structure. We moved two by two. Dea and I moved first while the other two, Potter and Mandella suppressed the snipers. Then it was their turn while we covered their movement. Essentially, it became a game of leapfrog with hints of Old Russian Roulette.

Getting an actual visual on the snipers proved to be more problematic than I had originally thought. When Torres' men breached the front doors and began fighting their way towards the throne room, the gunshots echoed in the night, audible despite the fact we were on a flank of the palace. Lights all around the palace and the nearby grounds flooded the area as if it were daytime, making the snipers' positions an indefinite, black mass.

After five minutes of dodging and covering, I was finally in range for a nova bomb. On Dea's word, everyone except for me hunkered down while I charged a massive ball of energy in my hands, yelling, "Everybody down!" I shifted the energy to my right hand and jumped, rearing back the arm and then shoving it towards the snipers' nest.. A purple explosion of sound and light drowned out anything, a cacophony quickly replaced by that of the structure falling in on itself.

"Good work Maximus," Dea complimented. She looked back to Potter and Mandella. "We've got our way in. Let's move!" On her signal, we resumed our "leapfrog" tactic until the other two arrived at the base of the tower first. Most of the structure had collapsed on top of the a part of the palace, placing our insertion point a little higher than I would have preferred. Thick shadows still disguised any activity that may have been taking place on the roof, making the maneuver that much more risky. I swapped the Multi-Tool for Arla's pistol. I hadn't handled it much in the past, but I was able to figure out how to switch it to grappling mode. 'Alright Heksis,' I thought. 'Don't let me down now.'

"We're heading up," Dea called out. "Cover us."

"Roger," Potter and Mandella confirmed simultaneously.

I grabbed one of her knives as well and held the pair as Arla had taught me, knife hand under the gun hand at the wrist. With a tap on my shoulder and a hissing sound, Dea sprang towards the wall and began ascending. I aimed the hook at the ledge and fired into it. When I pushed the trigger forward, the wire went taught and yanked me towards it. Taken slightly aback by the strength of the sudden tug, I buried my shoulder in the the side of the building, the cloth on my armor dragging against the rough surface as the hook reeled in its line. Dea grabbed me by the shoulder and back just before I reached the top, hauling me on top of the roof and unhooking the grapple. "Potter, Mandella. You're up," Dea signaled.

"Copy," Mandella called back.

"We won't bury ourselves in the wall," Potter snided.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Save the joking for later," Dea warned. "Maximus, make sure the area is clear." I switched the gun back to pistol mode and holstered it, pulling the Multi-Tool back out. Now that we were in the envelope of darkness that proved so troublesome earlier, I could finally see out of the night vision. Marking nearly everything, I cautiously approached the hole, going prone to take a glimpse inside of it only taking my eye away from the scope for a moment. The corridor below was covered in shadow, night vision barely able to make sense of some of it. The HUD couldn't detect any enemies, but I had the sneaking suspicion that I wasn't alone. "Power's out at least in this sector of the palace," I reported. "It's surprisingly quiet too."

"Torres just told me they rerouted a few of the troops they're fighting to investigate the explosion," she relayed. "Keep a sharp eye for them."

"Should I head down?" I asked.

"Stay put. We're almost done here." I pulled the Multi-Tool away from my eye and turned back to see Dea hauling the Potter over the side. Something seemed off for a moment, their forms blurring for a...I rolled out of the way just as a knife buried itself where my head had been moments before. "Holy...!" I exclaimed, scrambling to my feet and seeing the Multi-Tool begin hovering where I'd left it. Two shots rang out, one burying itself in my right leg and the other in my torso. Before it could let off another, I squeezed the pistol's trigger as fast as I could, spraying the shots around where my weapon floated. The spent magazine dropped to the floor in unison with the Fallen's bullet-riddled body. Alive but hurting immensely, I dropped to the ground as well and rolled onto my back. My shields recovered after a moment, but when I skimmed a finger over where I'd been hit, I felt it sink into a very noticeable dent. A sharp piece of metal slid out and pinged on the ground.

"Maximus, you alright?" Dea asked, the three of them running over.

Potter extended a hand that I readily accepted. Mandella poked the corpse with his foot and assured himself that it was dead. "Yeah," I said, already beginning to feel the impacts as I was pulled to my feet. Mandella wrenched my weapon from the corpse's hands and deposited it in my hands with a nod. I turned back to Dea, gesturing to my attacker. "I don't know how he slipped by me, but that was too close." I lightly rubbed the dent on leg. "This thing kicks like a horse."

"And steals souls like the devil," Potter quipped. Mandella chuckled to himself and patted Potter on the back.

"Ready up," Dea ordered. "We're going in." Potter and Mandella marked the rooftop as Dea and I dropped into the darkness. The ground crunched beneath our feet when we landed, the sound repeating itself when the other two came down. A map of the Palace popped up on the HUD with a room a few floors down and towards the center highlighted. "They're probably commanding everything from the Queen's private chambers. There are two ways in. The first is through the actual door." She pointed to Potter and Mandella. "You two are going to make your way there. Maximus and I are going to find the Queen's private route. Intelligence from before the attack indicates that the nearest entrance is the throne room. If we can get there and find the door, they'll be flanked.

"Watch out for the patrol they sent after us. It's likely going to be heavier units. Keep your heads low. When you get to the room, hide and wait for my signal. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am," Potter and Mandella said in unison.

"Get a move on," she ordered. "Let's go Maximus."

The two soldiers darted off in one direction of the corridor, while Dea and I headed off in the other. Everything was quiet as we snuck through the hallways. Slowly, these dark and claustrophobic corridors turned into the streets of the City, recently populated but currently desolate. Much of the lavish interior remained as it was, albeit slightly disheveled in the more well-used areas. The corridor eventually opened up into a large, square room with a grand staircase that led down into an even deeper darkness. "What's with the power?" I asked. "Thought we moved out of the affected sectors." I glanced at the small map Dea had uploaded to confirm my suspicion.

"We did," she muttered, pausing. Suddenly, something whirred beneath us, exploding with light and sound just after and causing the entire structure to lurch. Dea and I were thrust forward onto the ground as cracks split their way across the ground. The building rumbled as pieces of the floor crumbled beneath us. "Tank!" Dea shouted, trying to lift herself off the ground. Another shot shocked the floor and splintered it, sending us flying. I flipped myself around in the air, just in time to see a Fallen spider tank stretched across the very bottom floor, aiming directly upward. Dea and I smashed into its hard body and rolled off the side along with the other debris, narrowly escaping its massive feet and legs. The Multi-Tool shrieked unpleasantly against its armor, but other than that, we were unharmed.

I immediately surveyed the area for something that resembled cover. The ground floor was open in design, the only obstructions being the dual routes up the staircase to the second floor where they merged into one giant flight for the remainder of the way up. Massive, polished stone pillars stretched to the ceiling, but that was it. "Slight change of plan?" I called out, drawing my weapon sprinting towards one of the pillars.

My mind flashed back to the Devil's Lair with Arla and Advira. Perhaps the biggest difference between then and now was who remained alive. "You're telling me," Dea returned. "You remember how to topple it?"

I popped out of cover momentarily and deposited a couple shots into one of the six legs. It's rapid fire turret swiveled my direction and lit up the room like a blue strobe light. "Take out the legs!" I yelled as chunks of stone fell from the walls and pillar. I put another pair of bullets in its legs. "Then take out the core."

"And don't get blown up again," she added.

"Right." The turret swiveled my direction again and stripped the pillar of more rock. Looking up at it, large sections had gotten noticeably thinner, weakened enough to the point of collapse. "Dea, draw its fire. I'm moving cover"

"Roger." Several volleys of bullets deposited themselves in the Tank. The turret snapped around to Dea's pillar and carved a large section out of it. "My turn to move," she stated as I pumped bullets into its back legs. Dea sprinted from her cover and slid behind another pillar. A sharp, mechanical growl echoed through the hall. When I looked up, I was staring into the barrel of the main cannon, a fiery, red glow gathering deep within. I rushed forward, running towards it and rolled just as the shot demolished the ground around me, splinters of stone and other material pelting me as I pulled out of the roll and dashed to the tank's right. Firing into the middle leg as I ran, I pulled behind Dea's old pillar without realizing it.

Now that I had gotten a little closer to it, albeit briefly, I noticed that the tank was a fair bit smaller than the ones we'd previously encountered. Its firepower still packed as much of a punch as its relatives, perhaps even more, but this more compact version was scarcely the only one here, and considering they had at least two of the weapon foundries, perhaps all of them. Admittedly, it would be a risky build, to develop, ship, and deliver. Not many people would take too kindly to having a Fallen Walker be flown over the City, especially given past experiences.

"Maximus!" Dea shouted, forcibly moving me out of the way as the pillar crumbled around us. She dragged me to the next one and unceremoniously deposited me as the turret sprayed ever more debris around us. "I've got an idea," Dea yelled above more shots.

"What've you got?" I called back. These legs remained stout no matter how many bullets we deposited in them.

"Toss me a scatter grenade and start charging up. We're about to end this thing. When the head goes forward, burn a hole through it."

I grabbed one of my grenades and tossed the silver metal ball to her. Slipping it onto her belt, she dashed out of her cover and kept firing until she came to the crumbled remains of my original cover. She didn't fit behind the small stump that remained, leaving her partially exposed, but she didn't stay there long, slinging her weapon onto her back and charging forward. "Going for it."

I changed magazines and continued trying to draw its attention, but the main cannon lowered itself and took aim at Dea as she rushed out of cover, but suddenly, she wasn't there. Just as she left, she leapt into the air and tossed the grenade directly in the center of the tank. A shower of purple sparks flashed through the blackness. Metal crashed against the floor, and a large, mechanical groan filled the room as the plates on its legs split into several pieces and fell. Immediately, I began to summon that glow once more. _Just like earlier_ , I told myself, envisioning myself back in Omolon, watching Starco fly away forever.

A second metal groan followed the appearance of a red-hot column of metal and technology, sparks and electricity shooting off of it. I spun out of cover and flicked my right arm at the elbow. A hazy, off-white glow gathered around my fingertips, a warm sensation starting in my chest and consuming my entire being. I reared back that arm, planted my feet, and thrust it forward. A blinding shaft of light shot out of my hand, causing me to shut my eyes and look away. I felt the light battling against the darkness that forged the tank like two swords crossing in my mind's eye. Initially, the Darkness fought back, trying to physically slice through my light, but the longer it resisted, the harder I focused, the hotter its blade became. The shadowy swordsman dropped the sword and took to blocking my light with its hands as I drove it ever farther, ever harder. Suddenly, the shadow faltered, and the light shot through its chest, slicing through it like a hot knife and dissolving it within a second. I stopped the light and lowered my arm, dropping to my knees in exhaustion. When I looked up, I could see the other side of the darkness through the tank. White hot bolts of electricity shot across the gap for a few seconds, and then the entire frame collapsed on its failing legs. Dea marked it for a second as she slid over to me. By the time she helped me to my feet, the physical weakness had dissipated, leaving only the mental fatigue.

"Interesting as always," she said, heaving me to my feet.

"Thanks," I responded. As I refocused my vision and tried to wave away the afterimage, I grabbed my weapon from my back and followed her into the darkness. Each step she took was planned and deliberately taken, each sweep of her rifle calculated and precise. This was her element.

"Potter, Mandella," she radioed. "What's your status?" Static was the only answer. "Of course they're running interference," Dea muttered to herself. She momentarily turned back to me. "We're almost there."

As we walked, that overwhelming sense of being watched grew stronger. Given that the tank had been hiding in the darkness, any sort of ambush could be waiting for us. Soon after, the corridor split horizontally not long after. Without hesitation, Dea grabbed her knife and shoved it into the wall, slicing through easily and cutting out a hole as fast as she could. It was only a couple feet tall and not much wider, and I couldn't see anything through said hole, but it got us out of the open. "Cover me," she said, sitting down and setting her weapon next to her.

"On it," I replied, marking the black hallways. Behind me, Dea grunted several times, straining against something behind me. An outline appeared on my HUD, compounded by a couple other rushing highlights in the darkness to my right. "We've got company," I whispered, going prone and trying to make myself as unnoticeable as possible.

"I'm almost through," Dea whispered back. "Should be less than a minute."

Suddenly, a volley of energy screamed in my direction, narrowly missing my shoulder. "They've opened up," I called to Dea, rolling out of the way and getting to my feet as quickly as I could. The deafening booms of shots from both sides echoed down the hall as I scrambled to the corner of the wall for cover. I looked over to where Dea had just been, seeing that she'd pulled herself into the wall completely. I took aim at one of the red outlines and squeezed the trigger. There was a burst of white color from the top of the outline, and then it ceased to exist. As the first red lines faded, more took its place from behind. I pulled out of cover and fired several more shots into the gathering crowd, several bolts jarring me and ultimately forcing me back into cover. I shoved another magazine in and fired once more. _Just a little closer_ , I thought. A couple more fell dead with the next few bullets I sent their way, but they were equally as accurate. Just as with the first, more outlines replaced the fallen one. "Dea, I don't think I can hold this for much longer." Loud shrieks echoed down the hallway. "I do not like the sound of that."

A deafening metal clang screeched through the hall. "I'm through!" Dea called out. "Hurry!" Pressing myself against the wall as yet another volley seared the air next to me, I slid the Multi-Tool onto my back and clenched a grenade. I planted my right foot, pivoted out of cover, and tossed it directly into the front line. White and purple sparks lit the hallway long enough for me to dash across the floor and slide into the hole. As soon as I was on the other side, Dea grabbed me by the hand and hauled me to my feet, nearly dragging me with her as she started sprinting.

"Where're we going?" I asked her, blindly following each of her footsteps and turns as she sprinted down the hallway.

"Torres lost control of the front entrance. The tank we faced wasn't the only one," she said, grabbing hold of a metal pipe and swinging herself around it with her momentum.

I did similar. "I didn't think it was, but how can you tell Torres was overrun?"

She paused at an intersection in the dark tunnel, looking back at me momentarily. "That wasn't a small division sent to get rid of us. That was their front line, or at least what remained of it. You cut them down a good deal. If my hunch is correct, we were going to be sandwiched by an entire platoon in about twenty seconds."

"So then, why did we just enclose ourselves in a tight space?"

Dea stopped and looked at the wall. "This'll do," she muttered to herself, grabbing something off of her belt and placing it on the wall above her head. "Because we're going to seal them in here. Our entrance was one of very few that get anywhere close to an interior or exterior wall without being far underground." She grabbed a second device, placed it, and then did the same with a third. After motioning me onto the other side, she moved her hand straight down. Faint red lights glowed for a couple seconds until they faded into oblivion. Motion charges.

"That ought to slow them down," I said.

"Precisely. Let's keep moving. We're getting close." With that, she dashed off with me in tow once more. The path cut off at a door that materialized out of the darkness like a shadow. A dusty, metal plate lay on the ground just to the right of the door. I stooped down and picked it up, swiping my glove across its metal surface. " **Queen's Private Chambers** ," it read. I gently set it on the ground and drew my weapon.

"They're here," a voice that sounded strikingly like Ikora's whispered from beyond the door.

Immediately, I looked at Dea. She held up a fist and whispered, "I sent the signal. Now, we wait for theirs. You just be ready to knock down the door." I nodded and took up a position behind the door with my feet firmly planted into the floor and poised to strike the door on her order. Everything on the other side went still for several moments, an eerie hush commanding the air until the severely dampened sound of gunfire pierced the air. Dea's fist dropped and mine shot forward. The seemingly-sturdy door flew off its hinges with a low groan and plowed through whatever was in its way until it rattled to the ground and skid into the opposite wall. A chorus of voices shouted at the room to "Get down!" and "Raise [their] hands!" I marked Zavala and the Queen as I eased myself into the room. Cayde made a reach for his weapon, but Mandella put a bullet in his hand and the weapon he had just barely managed to touch, rendering each useless. Slowly but surely, the Vanguard and Queen realized their defeat, raised their hands, and lowered themselves to their knees.

While they were disarmed and dealt with, I scanned the room for more hostiles. After a few seconds of nervous sweeping, I concluded that the room was empty save for us. Curious, I peeked outside of the doors and saw several Fallen bodies littering the hall as well as a discarded grate from a now-open vent in the wall. Bullet holes and plasma burns scarred the walls, and I couldn't help but stare until a chilling voice pulled me back. "She's dead isn't she?" the Queen called out. Potter moved to silence, but I intervened. "Let her speak," I said, pushing her weapon to the side. "I want to make sure I heard her right."

"The Huntress," she clarified, her eyes trying to see through me. "She's dead isn't she?" It almost sounded like a taunt, but I could detect a genuine curiosity in her voice as if she wanted to confirm a suspicion in order to prove a point.

"Arla's more alive than any of you," I spat. I signaled Potter, and she shoved the her rifle's stock in the Fallen's face, the Queen dropping to the ground in a heap. Just as she hit the ground, a white-blue ball appeared in the center of the room. The air and my vision went grainy. The ball of energy pulsed, sending streaks of growing intensity across the room until they enveloped everything, and as soon as the lights began, they ended. The air dropped several degrees, the artificial light of the Quarters replaced by a natural haze. Suddenly unsteady on my feet, I fell to my knees, catching myself before I collided with the overgrown dark metal that was the ground. Vines etched dark green lines in the textured metal, snaking their way indefinitely across the ground as if to ensnare any that stepped on it.

"Welcome back…" a cold, calculated, and familiar voice greeted. "...to the Black Garden!" A man in white armor gripped me by the collar and lifted me effortlessly, the Speaker, or at least his shadow. "This has been a long time coming," he nearly whispered. "I sense you've lost your Ghost, but not your light. Interesting. Let's see if we can change that." Suddenly, the Speaker's grip tightened with inhuman, almost robotic strength, a maniacal, mirthful laugh bellowing from behind the helmet. A void opened in my chest, and everything ran cold, sapping my strength rapidly until I felt like a shell. I felt myself go limp. My eyes, once trained on the helmet, drifted shut as my head slumped forward. Without warning, the Illusion Kell dropped me to the ground. "Pitiful," he spat, turning around.

Back flat on the ground, I felt weak, unable to push myself back on my feet and fight, like my power was seeping from me like blood. After several seconds of darkness, I found the strength to open my eyes.

Potter, Mandella, and Dea each shared a similar position to my own, but they were each cuffed at the hands and feet and forced to the ground rather than what their Kell had done to me. Over them lorded each of the Vanguard while the Queen stood near the edge of the metal platform looking over the metal structure that once contained the Heart of the Black Garden. 

"Did you find the Huntress?" the Kell asked.

The Queen bowed her head. "We did, Commander Gilmis." Gilmis lowered his head and growled something that could have been a slight chuckle. "Good," he grumbled. I tried to force myself onto my feet but only succeeded in turning over onto my stomach. My mind felt cloudy and a floating sensation gathered in my stomach. As I looked over at their Kell, I saw one thing above all else: a faint glow around him…

The faint glow of the Light.

"Vulkra, bring her to me," Gilmis ordered. He raised an arm, white-yellow energy gathering at the palm until it was saturated with pure power, my power, the Traveler's power. It sliced through the air like a knife, literally splitting the air and leaving a glowing gash in the air, nearly as blinding as a star, but all of us simply stared as he gripped one edge of the gash and pulled it open with little effort. The initial glow grew brighter as he pulled at it, the aura about him radiating like the Sun and forcing everyone to turn from it except for him.

Shying from the light, the subordinate looked to her Kell with a confused expression at first but, ultimately, lifted a tentative leg over the edge. Her figure dimmed the light for a split second but returned after she disappeared beyond the portal. "This! 'Speaker!'" Gilmis roared. "Is the true power of your Traveler, this Great Machine! Far too long did you make yourselves slaves to a God that perished long ago. You predecessors feared its power so much, they limited its use." He let go of the edge of the portal and pointed a hand at Potter and Mandella. Their guards tore themselves from their Kell's display and lifted their prisoners to their feet. "Behold! The true power of the Light in the hands of someone brave enough to harness it!" Light gathered at his fingertips and joined at the palm. A flash brighter than the portal flooded everything for a fraction of a second. In that instant, Potter and Mandella slumped backwards and faded in an outline of yellow until they no longer existed.

A surge of anger and hopelessness flowed through me, battling in my mind and body as a hand protruded from the portal. Gilmis lowered one arm and grabbed the edge of the portal with the other, opening it for the Queen hauling a body with a familiar face. Arla.

She unceremoniously hauled her through the portal and deposited my fallen friend next to Gilmis. The Kell let go of the portal and closed it by running his hand over the seam from bottom to top like a zipper. His aura returned to normal and his attention shifted from where the portal had been to the Queen and the body before him. He let out an audible, angry sigh and tsked. "Vulkra, I thought I ordered you to bring them alive," he seethed.

Vulkra stared at the ground. "There was an incident with some...ordin-" A furious hand suddenly clasped her throat.

"I. AM. YOUR. KELL!" Gilmis shouted. "I am THE Kell! You do as I say! You have failed for the last time." He brought her close and stopped shouting, speaking through his teeth. The Queen remained stone-faced, didn't even choke. "You have brought nothing but disgrace on your family's legacy and slowed our progress. I knew I should have never had a female Lead Captain. So irrational. You took the wrong risks every time…" Her head fell backward and body limp. "Enjoy thinking about your failures." With that, he effortlessly swung Vulkra across his body and slung her off the edge of the platform and into the infinite abyss below. Gilmis turned slowly to the rest of us, making eye contact with each of his remaining Captains. All three had lined up a few "As for you three, we have work to do. Your failures must also be atoned for later." His head snapped around to Dea who had somehow gotten to her feet despite her restraints. I looked closer and noticed that her feet were freed and that her upper body was tensed, like she was trying to break free…

Suddenly, her hands flew outward and a sound like glass breaking echoed against the metal walls. From my position on the ground, I shook my head, but, with one last and longing look towards me, a look that seemed to last an eternity, she sprinted forward. In one swift motion, Gilmis pulled a pistol, aimed, and fired. Noiselessly, her head jerked back just as blue-white streams of light enveloped her body and took her away into oblivion.

Now, I was alone. Just like my last day with the AEA, and it seemed that my time as a Guardian was drawing to a close. My thoughts momentarily turned to Heksis. I don't know why in what was likely the last few minutes of my life I decided to think about the being I knew so little about, who remained one of the most enigmatic people I'd ever met. I wondered if he had been Illusion secretly, if the reason he disappeared was because Dea had found out he had been part of the Illusion the entire time. A frigid wind blew through the canyons and catacombs of the Garden. One evil perished here, and another took its place. This reality gave me confirmation of why the Traveler wished what it wished. For a long-dormant machine, its connection with me was strong. Now though, its messages went to Gilmis. Stripped of my power, all I could do was watch and wait, no strength to move or fight back. Humanity had lost. I was just waiting for the end.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **6:03 am**

Rather than killing me there in the Garden, Gilmis imprisoned me aboard his Ketch, a massive black ship that had been on standby just over the horizon of the Garden. As I was forcefully marched down the halls and thrown into what seemed like a converted closet, I couldn't help but note the graffiti and drawings along the walls. Most of them were symbols I could have never deciphered without Starco's help, but several of the drawings were much less convoluted. Near my "cell," there had been a chain of symbols I'd recognized, Fallen Houses I'd either read about or encountered. Kings, Devils, and Wolves were the most highlighted. Several circles magnified their importance, but a large, white X crossed over each of the colored shapes, striking through the symbol entirely. Words written in the Fallen's cryptic language stretched around each centralized symbol. The guards noticed my curiosity and shoved the butts of their rifles into the back of my neck and back until I stumbled forward. We turned a corner and, with one final prod from their rifles, I tumbled into the closet and slid across something wet.

There was no light in the room, and the lights from my eyes didn't reflect off of pretty much any surface. Still weak, I pushed myself to my knees and searched for the wet surface from earlier. Softly, I heard a drip in the darkness followed by a miniscule splash. I slid a finger across the floor, hoping that I was facing the door. After a few sweeps, I found a small puddle of liquid.

The cramped space didn't leave much room to crawl, but I carefully maneuvered myself over to the puddle, the lights in my eyes sliding into view of the still-agitated water as I did. I stooped closer to them. Despite them being my own, there was something hypnotizing about them, something different and distant in their yellow beams. Far gone was the youth in them. Hope dwindled in their dimmed light. Truthfully, it was disappointment and grief that filled the depressed bulbs.

Lee. Arla. Charli. Dea. All of them were gone. That sinking loneliness crept back into me again.

Once more, I thought back to the Traveler's prophecy: one that it had shared with the previous Speaker, but he had denied it, thinking it to be just his own madness. The City had been doomed from The Fall. There was a reason that they counted every day that it remained standing rather than the days to winning this war against the Darkness. That's because we couldn't win. Not to say that the dead died in vain, they died believing in something. Most of them never knew the truth, and only one other being knew what I did. I knew what I had to do if I got out of this closet and didn't die at the hand of Gilmis. I had come to terms with that fact of life long ago, but its proximity scared me more than ever.

The door slid open and two armed guards entered. Chatting in their garbled language, they hauled me up and cuffed my hands. Quickly, they led me through the various hallways of the ship until we reached a lift. Once out, they delivered me to a sealed door and punched in the code. The door slid open, and I was thrown inside.

The bridge wasn't all that large. There was a large viewport that spanned three-quarter of the walls. Beneath us was a pit full of consoles and instruments. Ahead was the destroyed City with the broken remains of the Traveler looming in the distance. An early morning sun rose, painting the sky with beautiful shades of pink, red, and orange. The room was empty save for a hulking figure standing in the center of the furthest viewport. The silhouette's body glinted with metal almost from head to toe, but I realized upon a second glance that most of this was not armor. In fact, all four of his arms were completely bare.

He turned around. "Ah, you're here," he said gruffly. "My people have awaited this day for...a very long time." He took a few steps forward and pressed a button on his one of his upper wrists. The doors to the bridge clicked audibly. "Countless legends spoke of the one they called the Kell of Kells. An Eliksni who would unite all of the separate Houses across our known universe under one banner, someone who would reign justly under the guiding light of the Great Machine and usher in an age of prosperity like no other for our homeworld of Eliksnios. Countless hours and days I've spent pouring over religious texts, prophecies given by Our Machines, and commentaries by our own critical minds. In my pursuit of knowledge, I realized one thing, something I've realized is nearly universal, time corrupts ideals…"

I simply stared suspiciously at him and listened. This was a far cry from the warrior that had seized the City and killed his second-in-command. The Kell that stood before me didn't show any sign of remorse for the things he did, but almost seemed semi-friendly. It was an odd feeling to have, and I couldn't help but feel that I was being lured into a false sense of security.

Gilmis paused for a moment and came a few steps closer to me. "That was something that I set out to change. In my travels, I saw the Great Machine's prophecies come true one at a time. I watched entire Houses fall at the hands of other empires. Most notably, the ones you refer to as the Cabal, but humanity has been a far more dangerous adversary than them for one reason: they have the Great Machine. I read the few legends we have from that time. There were those very similar to you. Chu'klah they called them. I don't believe there's a direct translation, but you could compare them to your Guardians. Regardless,the hubris of both our peoples drove themselves into civil war. While yours was fought more in politics than my ancestors', they still did their fair share of damage, tearing families apart and the likes. When the first, as you say, Fallen ships arrived, Earth united surprisingly quickly, but your relative peace left you vulnerable. When we'd cut you off from your colonies...who am I kidding…"

Gilmis placed a heavy hand on my back and pushed me towards the window. "This…" He gestured to the destruction we overlooked. "...was not supposed to happen. This was the contingency of the contingency of the contingency plan. Ultimately, yes many would have perished, but it wouldn't have been as bloody and destructive as it has been. You and your comades' fighting has been admirable to say the least. In my culture, if one is to become a leader, then the current leader must perish by the aspirant's sword.

"My sister had never been a fan of me taking the helm of the Illusion, and she left shortly before I officially challenged for it." He looked over the metallic implants that lined his arms, nearly replacing every single cell in them. "She watched me convert myself from Eliksni to Machine, and that pleased her somewhat, but no machine is a match for the brain. She had believed in more direct solutions than political turmoil combined with cloak and dagger techniques. She was a soldier more than anything, and that's what the House of Wolves was looking for when she infiltrated the Reef and met with Skolas, their Kell. My counter to her was that what she believed in was a flawed view of the world, and that it was unnecessary killing and violence. I believed there were smarter, stealthier ways to accomplish what we so desired. As I look out over this, I can't help but say that she was right. My techniques got my House here, but full-fledged combat is what won the day. That's what's going to seal it right here, right now. Maximus, you killed my sister Rhyn'iks the Aggressive just over a year ago. You fought her admirably, and then executed her like a dog. It was honorless and unnecessary, and the time to atone for your crimes has come at hand. I wish I could say I was sorry, but unfortunately, I'm not, and you're about to be."

I bowed my head and glanced at the powerful legs that stood next to me, wriggling my hand to ensure my grip, and then I twisted it towards the wall. I flicked the switch and pulled the trigger. Immediately, a grappling hook shot out and ripped my restraints apart, pulling me along with it towards the wall.I let go of the gun, rolled, and snatched it off the ground once it clattered off the wall. Before Gilmis could properly react, I slid into the alcove with the consoles and looked at Arla's pistol, an item that he had mistakenly worn on the leg nearest to me.

"That was a cowardly move Maximus!" Gilmis shouted. "You're just like your friend Dea. You never know when to quit." I froze momentarily at the sound of her name from his mouth. "Yeah I know who she was, but here's your problem. You have no ammunition, the bridge is sealed, and you don't have any of your 'Guardian powers.' You aren't her unfortunately." A heavy thud rumbled across the alcove. I pressed myself against a console and watched for him. Sure enough, the magazine was absent from the gun, and I'd been stripped of all my weapons and ammunition upon capture. A footstep came on my right. I leaned out and fired the grappling hook at him. Just as I fired, thin, green armor materialized across across his body, encasing him in a sleek second skin that the hook only rebounded off of. I slid away from my console and ducked into another row, Arla's gun reeling the hook back.

Gilmis suddenly turned the corner I was running towards and made a lunge for me. By pure instinct, I slid away from the two metallic arms that reached towards me and bounced off the floor and black metal wall, scrambling in the other direction. I fired the hook on top of the pit and vaulted back onto the main floor. Enraged, the Kell spun back around and leapt the five meters upward, clearing the ledge with plenty of room to spare.

He laughed sardonically. "You're smart. You have that going for you. A worthy adversary in person just as much as I'd read about but still not your dead friend." He took a slow step towards me. The sunrise glinted off the shiny armor he wore like a mirror, casting a bright glare in several places. Another step. Nearby, something beeped. He didn't take another step but instead planted one foot into the ground. Without breaking contact with the visor covering his four eyes, I dropped my weapon and removed my gloves. Confusion flashed across his face but was immediately replaced with vengeance and purpose. His back leg twisted, and he charged forward once more much faster than he had previously, a war cry bellowing from his lungs as he did. Just as Gilmis took the first step, I threw my bare hands forward and unleashed a storm of lightning into the air in front of me. Blue and white streaks of plasma singed the air and grappled onto the metal suit he wore. Undaunted, he pushed forward, but his charge became challenged, joints becoming stiff, and war cry becoming a mangled screech of pain as he came to a halt at my feet. I didn't stop though. He killed my friends, my family. He nearly killed an entire civilization in the name of a Machine far past its expiration date. The green armor began to heat up, glowing red and orange as the hot plasma began to cook him inside of his own suit. He stopped moving a few seconds later, but I continued for another ten just to make sure. I dropped my hands and stopped the stream, falling to my knees in exhaustion. Summoning what little strength I had, I raised a fist and hit his helmet on the rear seam, splitting it in two easily. As the smoldering pieces sparked and clattered onto the floor, a badly burned and charred lump of flesh hung limply, smoking just as much as his armor and likely filling the air with an unimaginable stench far beyond what Fallen usually produce. Gilmis, Kell of the House of Illusion, was dead.

I placed a frail hand on the charred corpse and summoned the stolen Light from his corpse. I felt its familiar yet haunting warmth. Suddenly, alarms blared and lights flashed in the bridge, likely extending across the entire ship. "Self-destruct countdown," Starco noticed, a wipsy, astral form of him floating by me.

"Starco?" I whispered. "Is that you?"

"Well, I was there when you started. Might as well be here when it ends." There was something gleeful yet sad in his eye. I reached out to touch him, but my hand simply went right through him. The overload must've cost me more energy than I had predicted if I was hallucinating this much. "If I'm translating this right, we have about ten minutes before this thing goes off like a nuke."

"Do we have enough time?" I asked, following Starco to the pit of instruments and hopping down. The impact threw me on my face. I was getting weaker and fast. If I was going to put an end to all of this madness, I had to tackle one last objective before the shutdown took over. Two firm hands hauled me to my feet. I grabbed my helper's shoulder and straightened myself. "Arla?" I said, looking over and seeing an Awoken Huntress in purple and red armor with a pink-handled knife fastened to her torso. She smiled and led me to a console. "Yep. This looks like the navigation," Starco confirmed.

I slumped into the seat and tried to make sense of the garbled screen. Starco moved down and looked at the screen. "Well, if we're going to get this nuke in the right position, then we better start moving. Start by angling the ship up and pushing the engines to 50%. He hovered over the engine control. "Now hit the second button next to the screen." I did, and it displayed something that Starco translated as a meltdown warning that slid into a gridded screen with several curved lines sloping into a jagged upper ceiling. Arla jumped in. "Looks like you're a little below target. Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Her voice sounded worried with a hint of regret.

Starco indicated for me to pull back on the stick. It was stiff and didn't do anything at first, but I felt the ship tip upward as we quickly accelerated towards the Traveler. The angle now properly set, I momentarily succumbed to the weakness setting in, my eyes closing unexpectedly until I jumped back awake. "It's happening faster than I expected," I declared.

"Agreed," a new voice said, a gloved hand laying flat against the instruments in front of me. Dea now stood to my right. "Try and focus on what's in front of you and don't waver it. It's going to take every ounce of your strength, but you can do this Maximus. You killed a Kell."

"Is this right though?" Arla repeated. "Is this what the universe needs?" Her voice was much more stern now.

Fighting the urge to slip under, I said, "The Traveler serves as a beacon of what we call Light. The Heart was what we called Darkness. Each of them are completely arbitrary, but they oppose each other, force people to take sides…" I trailed off.

Dea continued where I left off. "They create war," she explained. "We killed one monarch and the other is dying. Destroying the Traveler isn't an end Arla. It's a beginning. My people have transported the remnants of the City's population elsewhere until we're done here."

Understanding eased Arla's piercing gaze. She knew what was going to happen after but still asked, "Then what?"

Dea lifted her hand from the console and looked at the Traveler quickly growing in the viewport. I could start to see the underside of the Traveler. I couldn't make out anything yet, but we were getting closer, and I knew that I would see it in just a few minutes. "Five minutes," Starco noted. "We're a little behind."

"Pull the angle back a little then and gun it Maximus," Arla recommended. I looked up at her and saw tears gathering in her eyes. "It's time for a new epoch of humanity to begin. No Guardians. No Light or Dark." A smile gathered on her face. "Just the wonderful, messed up universe that's always existed." I eased pulled up on the stick for a second and placed a hand on the thrust. Arla set her hand on top of mine. I couldn't feel anything physically, but I felt her presence as I pushed it forward. My eyes shut, and I couldn't fend off the shutdown anymore. I let go of the controls and slid back in my chair.

I was ready. "From here, the stars," I whispered.

"From here, the stars," Arla repeated.


End file.
